In that instant, Feng Fuce directly used his slender palm to cover the little one’s eyes.
His forceful gesture meant she was not allowed to look.
For some reason, at that moment, Bai Zhi’er seemed to smell a familiar scent of orange.
Si Zheng lay in a pool of blood, and in a flash, red stained the white snow.
Qingmei staggered to her feet, her hair partially askew, shaken to the core.
She glared at Si Zheng: "You heartless fiend, you still wanted to attack the Princess? You deserved to die!"
Si Zheng, struggling to breathe, began to mockingly laugh weakly.
She looked at Qingmei, her eyes seemingly satisfied with vengeance.
"I can’t take the Princess with me, but dragging you to the grave with me is worth it... hehe, Qingmei, just wait, your good days are numbered."
After saying this, Si Zheng passed away with her eyes open.
Qingmei didn’t understand this and frowned disdainfully: "Still spouting nonsense on your deathbed!"