An hour later, Liwu stood in the dimly lit shooting range. The smell of gunpowder was sharp in the air. She donned a ridiculous pair of pink earmuffs, loaded her pistol and fired. Each shot cracked like thunder, echoing her fury.
She wasn't aiming for precision, though her bullets clustered neatly in the center of the target. She was aiming to release the storm inside her.
Huo Lingtian's face haunted her: Rong Jian's dead son, the first poor victim that lost his life in the path of revenge. And poor Huo Bin, the real victim of human wickedness. She thought of it as such because all the boy had tried to do was save others, but Su Daji didn't hesitate to kill him.
She saw Huo Lingtian's pale, lifeless eyes when he pulled the trigger.
Liwu fired again, the recoil jarring her arms. "Fruit it," she hissed.
Behind her, footsteps approached. She didn't need to turn to know who it was. She had learned those steps for a month.
