The whole villa was now silent, so quiet that there was no noise at all, and the tension was suffocating.
Staring at Yang Xiaoshuang, Ye Mengxiao raised his hand and finished the water in his glass leisurely.
With a cold look and not much emotion on her small face, Yang Xiaoshuang threw the fruit knife she was holding in her hand into the trash bin and then bent down to clean up the blood stains on the floor.
Carefully and attentively, she cleaned the blood to make sure no trace was left behind, and soon enough, the floor was shining as it was before.
After getting stabbed in his vital organs, Ye San was now at the hospital, uncertain if he would live or die. However, these two were very calm, as if nothing had happened earlier.
Placing down his glass, Ye Mengxiao sauntered forward and reached out before pinching her chin softly with his long fingers, forcing her to lift her gaze to meet his.