The stunned fragments, like splashing waves, were left alone with Wei Gushu holding the empty hilt of the knife, stunned in place.

Blood spurted out violently from his shoulders diagonally downward, and Wei Jushu slowly lowered his head, covering the wound on his chest along his shoulder with his hand, and the blood inside sprayed a delicate red mist.

His back was soaked with cold sweat, but it wasn't just because of the pain, but more because of fear and fear.

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