The moment her words ended, Zhuang Qingning, wielding a kitchen knife, lunged towards Mrs. Song.
Despite her usual clumsy and slow manner, Mrs. Song knew at this moment that if she didn't run, her life would be in danger. With a cry, she rolled and crawled out the door.
Zhuang Qingning promptly set off in pursuit.
"Sister." Zhuang Qingning's younger sister, Zhuang Qingsui, followed.
"You stay home, don't run around. I'll be back soon." Zhuang Qingning, fearing that Zhuang Qingsui might get hurt if things got too heated, issued instructions and then resumed chasing after Mrs. Song.
However, Mrs. Song was by nature fat and short, and even though she struggled to run, her pace felt much like a slow crawl.
Seeing the nimble and agile Zhuang Qingning getting closer, and the cold gleam from the kitchen knife in her hand, appeared soon to come down on her own head.
Mrs. Song's face drained of blood, and her legs trembled like sifting chaff, almost unable to run.
"Murder, murder…"