The cold wind hit her face, enveloping her entire visage.
The howling wind made Song Yi stare wide-eyed, fully alert. This was the eighteenth floor.
The man clasped her hands tightly, pressing her against the ventilated windowsill of the fire exit. She was forced to overlook the entire city, her hands bound so tightly that she couldn't struggle, an inexplicable sense of deathly silence hanging in the air.
"What are you doing?" Song Yi's voice was a bit weak, her heartbeat rapid.
This lunatic wouldn't actually throw her down from here, would he?
"Why panic?" The man's lazy voice reached her: "Look to your left, your balcony, see what she's doing?"
His tone was gentle, holding her, each word seemed to carry a magnetic undertone.
Pleasant to hear, with a soothing effect.
Song Yi indeed looked in that direction, Mu Wanxue had a heavy expression, seemingly making a phone call to someone.
"Did you see clearly?"
"Yeah."
