Watching Zhong Mengxuan wielding a dagger and stabbing towards herself, Zhong Niangyao's eyes flashed with a dark gleam. With swift movements, she dodged the attack, grabbed Zhang Mengxuan's hand, and twisted hard.
"Ah—" Zhong Mengxuan let out a sharp cry of pain as she felt her own wrist being twisted to the point of breaking by Zhong Niangyao.
"Clang—"
After the noise, the dagger dropped to the ground, and with a push from Zhong Niangyao, Zhong Mengxuan fell seated on the floor.
At this moment, due to the pain in her wrist, Zhong Mengxuan's forehead was covered in cold sweat, her face pale and her lips cracked, but her gaze towards Zhong Niangyao was still filled with deep hate and malice.
Zhong Niangyao stood there, looking down on Zhong Mengxuan with an expressionless face and not a hint of warmth in her eyes. "Zhong Mengxuan, it seems you're tired of living. If that's the case, I wouldn't mind sending you straight to prison."
