"Han Yan, you... you... you’re dead, aren’t you..." Fourth Miss Zhao suddenly widened her eyes, staring at Han Yan as if she had seen a ghost.
Beside her, Zhao Sinin wore the same expression.
They had long believed that Han Yan was certainly dead, so seeing him suddenly appearing in front of them filled them with shock and horror, leaving their minds blank.
"I am dead, died so miserably... ah... ah..." Seeing the horrified expressions on their faces, Han Yan’s eyes shifted, and he dragged out his voice eerily.
Speaking of Han Yan’s voice, it was truly unparalleled. The drawn-out tone and the tremor even made Mu Nan, standing nearby, shiver involuntarily, instinctively shrinking his neck. Chapters first released on NoveI-Fire.ɴet
"Ah... ah..." Fourth Miss Zhao was completely dumbfounded, trying to scream, but like a rooster choked by the neck, she couldn’t make a sound.
"I’m so lonely by myself, why don’t you join me? I apologize for the past, just compensate me, and you can get your revenge however you want..." Han Yan almost laughed out loud, having not expected to actually scare this person so much. How many guilty things must they have done to be so cowardly?
Han Yan dragged his voice even longer, and while talking, he mischievously untied his hair ribbon, deliberately letting his long hair fall. The wind blew and his hair danced lightly. Coupled with the snow-white clothes he wore today, he looked even more eerie. It must be said that sometimes the Big Playboy’s mischievousness was astonishing.
At this moment, not only was Mu Nan’s back crawling with goosebumps, but even his scalp was tingling, and his limbs felt chilled.
Fourth Miss Zhao’s eyes began to roll back, clearly terrified beyond measure.
The Big Playboy doubled down, giving off a ghostly, mournful cry while reaching out his hand. His fingers, being of a lady, were much more slender and pale than a normal man’s, almost transparent in the sunlight, usually a pleasant sight. But in this situation, to Fourth Miss Zhao, they seemed nothing short of ghostly claws.
"Ah... a ghost!" Just as Han Yan’s fingers touched Fourth Miss Zhao, her whole body shivered, she let out a shriek, and bolted.
Zhao Sinin’s ability to flee was still so impressive, so practiced that Fourth Miss Zhao hadn’t even stopped shouting before he had also escaped.
A sound of tearing clothes followed. Han Yan’s hand accidentally hooked onto Fourth Miss Zhao’s belt, and as she turned around, a sharp, hard ornament ripped her clothes open, exposing a large area of bare flesh.
Despite the frantic escape, the glimpses of her pale skin and enticingly white thighs radiated a breathtaking allure. Even Uncle Zhao, busy as he was running, couldn’t help but sneak a glance and swallowed hard.
Han Yan, holding a piece of torn fabric, stared at the intermittently visible figure of Fourth Miss Zhao, dumbstruck.
"Ha ha ha ha, another streaking episode, another streaking episode. Why is it that every time she sees you, she starts streaking? Is she addicted to streaking? That doesn’t seem like a good addiction," Mu Nan stood stunned for a moment before turning back, pointing at Han Yan and bursting into laughter.
This shock, however, seemed to have calmed Mu Nan’s nerves; his back no longer felt cold, his head no longer tingled, and his limbs warmed up. But still, his gaze towards Han Yan was unusually weird.
Han Yan was at a loss for words. What does her addiction to streaking have to do with me? Who are you asking, I’m asking who, as if I enjoy ripping people’s clothes off. Don’t forget, it was you who tore someone’s clothes last time.