"What!" Shen Jianing grabbed the wrist of the servant girl Hongli, and her delicate face was full of horror at this time.

The scratched red knotweed had never seen Shen Jianing look like this, she couldn't help but tears and said, "It's true......"

"Red knotweed!" An exclamation sounded from outside the house, and Shen Jianing's personal maid Qingque quickly took a few steps forward and hurriedly supported the crumbling Shen Jianing.

"You, say it again!" Shen Jianing pushed away the green finch, grabbed the red knotweed, gritted his teeth and said strongly.

Red Tateshi cowered and looked at the blue finch.

"Say!"

Shen Jianing slapped her in the face. She immediately cried: "San Lang is dead!" ”

Shen Jianing only felt that the world was spinning. He's dead? How could it be dead?

"Where is he now?" Shen Jianing held on to Qingque hard to prevent himself from falling.

"Slaves don't know!" Hongli covered her face and cried, she hadn't recovered from Shen Jianing's slap just now, this young lady who was gentle and quiet on weekdays and suffered from everyone's eyes. Now the sudden burst of temperament on her body made her a little scared.

"Well, you don't know! I'll ask them! Shen Jianing only felt chills all over his body, but his heart was beating violently.

That Han family's desperate San Lang, Han Mochen, how could he die?

However, when she shook off the green sparrow and staggered a few steps, before she left the room, her legs couldn't help but weaken, and her vision became blurred.

"What's wrong with me......" Shen Jianing's mind gradually became confused, and he only heard an anxious call from Qingque.

"Han Mochen, I always have to give you one.

Outside the house, the spring is bright, and the grass grows and the warbler flies.

"It's so boring...... Shen Jianing was in a daze, and muttered: "Qingque, open the window......"

However, all that could be heard was a buzzing sound.

Her mouth seemed to be glued together, and there seemed to be something on her face that made her breathless.

She reached out to brush her face off, but her arm was sore and weak.

"Quick, hold her! Stick one more! There was a woman's low voice.

Ice-cold water runs down your hair and into your ears.

Inside the room, in the dim candlelight, two hideous-looking old women pressed hard against a young woman on the couch who was constantly struggling but was firmly bound.

The woman's face was covered with layers of mulberry paper soaked in water, and what was even more terrifying was that when each layer of mulberry paper was pasted, an old woman would quickly draw a strange spell with a red cinnabar pen in the woman's eyes.

With layers upon layers of mulberry paper, the woman's struggle gradually weakened......

"I, Shen Jianing, how could I die?"