Su Meilin's body was freezing. She wanted to move, to run—but she couldn't. Fear gripped her so tightly that all she could do was shut her eyes as everything around her moved too fast.
Luckily, Zhao Yiming was faster. Just in time, he grabbed the back of Jin Haolong's shirt and yanked him down, sending the man crashing to the floor.
The knife clattered against the marble and slid under the bed.
Zhao Yiming kicked it farther out of reach, then immediately turned to Meilin, gently pulling her behind him to shield her. She clung to his back, trembling.
"I never thought you'd sink this low—to attack Meilin?!" he shouted, his voice shaking with rage. "Just fight me! Kill me if you can!"
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!! HOW DARE YOU CALL ME LOW WHEN YOU'RE NOTHING BUT FILTH YOURSELF?!" Jin Haolong pounded the floor with his fists, his whole body shaking.
He had never been humiliated like this in his life. Cheated on by her—his bumpkin wife?! He wasn't going to let it slide.
