Her usually gentle expression now bore anger, which Ouyang Che found amusing.
The man curved his lips; his dark eyes, like beasts in the night, stared at her darkly.
"Wushuang, what are you afraid of? It's all in the past. Can you really not let go of those things?"
A silver palm-sized pistol suddenly appeared in Wushuang's hand. She raised it, pointing at him.
"I'll say it again, shut up! You should know where my limits are. You can completely ignore me, but there are things you best not touch!"
Ouyang Che's gaze fell on the handgun, and he firmly gripped her hand, pressing the barrel against his heart.
"Back then, you didn't kill me. I owe you a life. Now, you can take my life anytime, and I... won't complain."
Wushuang tightly gripped the gun, but her finger didn't move.
"I have no intention of killing you," she said calmly. "If I wanted to kill you, I'd have done it then. Since I chose to spare you, I won't take your life."
