When Zheng Qing hummed and sang opera tunes.
A sudden glimmer of hope flashed in Nikita's eyes. She clearly saw the shocked expression on the warlock's face just now and easily deduced the reason for his astonishment.
It's that little witch!
She's my only hope right now!
"She's about to die!" The female demon sat up straight, anxiously turning to Zheng Qing: "You have to find a way to take her out of here, bring her back to the school, or she won't survive! If she stays here, she'll die very soon!"
Zheng Qing withdrew his gaze from the 'No Face'.
"Who? Who's about to die?" he asked instinctively.
But deep down, he already knew the answer to that question.
"That little witch." Nikita watched every subtle change in the warlock's expression closely, her fingers rapidly calculating under the sleeve of her robe: "Round face, seven or eight years old, wearing a tattered black robe, holding a small mirror in her hands… Zhuzhu is the one I sent to find her!"
