Mo Shiche's body suddenly tensed, his eyes dark as spilled ink, as if a hand reached in and clutched his heart, almost suffocating in its tight grip. His eyes narrowed, and with an extremely hoarse voice, he called out, "Sheng Tang."
"Do you know how I strangled her?" Her low, drawn-out sneer was clear and incredibly cruel, "Aren't you fond of your daughter? It just so happened to be a daughter. Watching her cry, I thought if you were there, you would be pleased. So, I used my right hand to strangle her neck. She was still very young, it only took a slight squeeze of my fingers for her to suffocate…"
The man's jaw suddenly tensed, "Sheng Tang!"
"Can't you bear it?" Luo Qiangwei's eyes filled with hatred as she took another step forward, "Do you want to know the look in her eyes before she suffocated? She cried so miserably, never imagining that the person who would strangle her would be her own mother—"
"Shut your mouth!"
