"Move it! What are you dawdling for?" Chicken Head urged Pei Yansi.
Pei Yansi looked at the knife that had fallen in front of him, and finally bent down to pick it up. The sharp blade gleamed coldly, reflecting in his profound and pitch-black eyes.
"If you don't want this woman to die in front of you," he said, "then immediately stab your stomach with this knife a few times."
Chicken Head threatened Pei Yansi, moving the blade even closer to Shen Heyu's throat, on which a faint line of blood was already visible on her pale, tender neck.
"Don't hurt her, I'll meet your demands," Pei Yansi said anxiously as he looked at Shen Heyu.
He saw the cut on Shen Heyu's neck from which blood was oozing out, and it felt as if his own heart had been sliced open.
Pei Yansi gripped the knife handle tightly, furrowed his brow, and, without blinking, plunged the blade into his abdomen.
"Don't!"
Shen Heyu, seeing this, cried out in fright.
