Chapter 111 (2/2)

Before Rong Jia could scream like a pig being slaughtered, the driver had already stuffed a rag that he usually used to clean the window into her mouth.

the driver pinched rong jia’s bleeding finger and said, ” don’t scream. what are you screaming for? i’m just collecting a reasonable amount of money. you don’t look like a poor person. you don’t owe me a debt, do you? ”

He felt that the brick he had just thrown wasn’t very good, so he added three more bangs.

” well, that’s great, yingluo. ” however, his middle finger was also bleeding. the driver scratched his head in embarrassment. ” uh, i’m so sorry. it’s dark and i didn’t see it clearly. i’m so sorry. i don’t think miss is a petty person. we’re even now. goodbye. if there’s a chance in the future, sit in my car again. i’ll definitely give you a discount. ”

After saying that, he quickly jumped into the car and ran away, leaving only a trail of exhaust fumes behind him.

Rong Jia’s mouth was stuffed with rags, and the bones in her right index finger had been completely broken. The ten fingers were connected to her heart. The pain was beyond what her body could bear, and Rong Jia could not cry anymore. Her consciousness was blurry, but she still wanted to crawl home.

however, when she saw her right hand, the pain that her nose and body suffered almost made her collapse. seeing this scene, rong jia’s entire body collapsed, and her neck tilted to the side as she passed out.

…..?

In contrast, Rong Jia’s fingers were crippled and she was lying miserably on the cold Street.

on the top floor of block A in the empire, it was a different scene. the room was full of charm.

Rong Yan was wearing a short nurse’s uniform. Her clothes looked intact, and a stethoscope was hanging around her neck. However, the nurse’s hat on her head had long been lost. Her hair was messy, and her forehead was wet. Her hair was stuck to her cheeks, and her eyes were blurred as if her soul had left her body.

…………………………

It’s almost the new year, and your writing resistance has flared up again. You want to chop off your hands the moment you start writing, right? writing a word is like suicide.

This is so hard! Most importantly, it’s completely wood-powered! What was this?