"Little Shang, what is wrong with you? How can you bite the hand that feeds you?"
In the original story, Little Shang was in so much pain his whole body twisted up. "You used the name of the Magpie Mountain Range to deliberately lure me here, making me almost lose my life several times."
And you call this gratitude repaid with resentment?
You bastard!"
"What's wrong with the Magpie Mountain Range?"
Jia Xitong froze at his words. "I'm being kind and somehow you feel wronged?"
The kindness wasn't the problem—the problem was this place wasn't the Magpie Mountain Range at all.
Shang Yanting's face turned even paler, partly from his injuries, partly from anger. "If it weren't for you, how would I have ended up like this?"
"I've noticed you really like blaming other people."
Jia Xitong pressed down on his wrists with both hands, pinning him under her, glaring down at him from above. "I kindly told you where the Magpie Mountain Range is—was that wrong?
