Huo Yirong slowly pried open the fingers that were gripping Song Qing's collar, his strength not forceful yet undeniable.
He placed his hand, callused from handling guns, by his raised Adam's apple and asked with a light chuckle, "Dare you kill me?"
He grabbed Song Qing's hand and slowly tightened his grip around his own neck.
Song Qing's pupils contracted sharply, and she struggled forcefully to shake off his hand, her gaze fixed on the man before her in astonishment.
"You're insane!"
The words blurted out trembled uncontrollably.
Huo Yirong's exquisitely handsome face bore a smile that seemed unrestrained and carefree, and the fleeting brilliance in his eyes made him not to be underestimated.
His eyes looked as if they were harboring schemes, seemingly peering into the depths of Song Qing's heart, seeing through her completely.
Song Qing's fingertips trembled at her side.
