"What I'm talking about is making you live worse than death."
Wen Yichen looked coldly at Zhang Min, bent down to pick up the knife from the floor, and pressed it against Zhang Min's face: "Do you think if I scratched your face and then sent you to Han Guanghong, he would still want you?"
"Don't scratch my face. You might as well just kill me."
Zhang Min didn't dare to move now, fearing Wen Yichen might accidentally cut her.
"Don't be afraid, I won't do it myself. Someone will take care of you in a bit. Killing my aunt and still daring to harm my grandmother, it's simply overestimating yourself."
"Don't touch my face. If it gets scratched, I might as well die. Hurry up and let me go."
Wen Yichen completely ignored Zhang Min's cries and signaled the security to take her away first.
