The man was very quick. No sooner had she noticed him that a knife was held against her fair and delicate neck.
"Don't move." His voice was low and hoarse. "As long as you go with me obediently, I promise not to hurt you."
Sheng Yang blinked but didn't move.
He didn't expect this girl to refuse to go with him even when a knife was held against her neck. Wasn't she afraid of death?
So he pressed the knife more tightly against her neck, not taking this eighteen-year-old girl seriously.
"I hate being interrupted when I'm studying," she said softly, her voice as gentle as a breeze.
"What?" Suddenly, Sheng Yang elbowed his lower abdomen hard, and it was so painful that he stumbled and dropped the knife in his hand on the ground with a clang. Sheng Yang lunged to her feet from the chair and was about to deal with the man as quickly as possible—