Two weeks later, Song Qingci walked in again.

His footsteps were a little unsteady, and he exuded a strong smell of alcohol.

Is he drunk? Do I have a chance to escape?

Thinking of this, I pretended to be concerned and helped him sit on the sofa.

"Why did you drink so much?"

Song Qingci didn't say anything but stared at me intently.

After a while, he took out a photo from his wallet and said softly, "Yangyang, I miss you so much."

This was the first time I saw Zhao Changyang's photo, but we didn't look alike.

It was a face as clear as water, black straight hair, almond-shaped eyes, pure and obedient.

The only similarity might be the black long hair and indifferent expression.

I carefully examined the photo and felt like I had seen that face somewhere before.

Song Qingci suddenly held his head in pain and said, "Even if she looks like you, she is not you! You will not come back."

"Will you blame me? Blame me for trying to find someone to replace you and forget you?"

He seemed immersed in the past sorrow, and I took a sneak peek at the half-covered iron door, quietly moving away.

My heart pounded, and then I got up and ran towards the door.

Ten steps, five steps, my long hair was suddenly pulled, and I was violently thrown to the ground.

The sharp pain on my scalp and back made me feel like I was going to die.

Song Qingci grimly sat on top of me and said, "Trying to escape?"

He handcuffed my hands and dragged me to the mirror as if dragging a dead dog.

My head was still throbbing, and he held scissors, cutting my long hair into pieces.

Tears flowed from my eyes, and I bit my lip hard, blood oozing from the corners of my mouth.

His tone was menacing, "You don't deserve it!"

"You don't deserve to have the same long hair as her, you are not her!"

I couldn't hold back anymore and cried out in despair, "Just kill me! Kill me!"

"What did I do wrong? Is this how you treat me? You, you lunatic!"

Song Qingci let go of my shoulders, staring at the broken me in the mirror as if admiring his masterpiece.

He sneered, "Isn't today your birthday?"

I sat there in silence, already scared speechless by his previous mad actions.

He touched my cheeks and wiped away the tears.

Then he threw a black plastic bag with a knot towards me.

"Open it? It's a gift from big brother."

I stubbornly turned my head away, refusing to look at him.

Song Qingci unlocked my handcuffs with a key, "It's all my fault, how could I forget to unlock them for you? Now you can look."

I swept the bag on my lap to the ground, "Get out, take your stuff and get out!"

He patiently squatted down, slowly untied the bag, and then handed it to me.

"Don't like it? It belongs to Wei Heng."

Hearing the familiar name, I looked at him in surprise.

Wei Heng, a senior in the same club as me.

Even though I was isolated, he always looked out for me.

How did he know about my relationship with Wei Heng?

But just one look made me nauseous.

There was a bloody severed finger in the bag!

I covered my mouth, fell off the chair, and crawled away from him.

"Are you crazy? That's a human finger?"

He stood up, laughing maniacally, "Yes, Wei Heng's finger."

"How dare he send you messages every day?"

"You are mine, no one else can touch you!"

"This time it's a finger, next time it could be something else!"

"Don't even think about running? If you run, what about your family and friends?"

He approached me step by step and pulled out a blood-stained knife from behind.

I closed my eyes, resigned to my fate.

But the expected pain didn't come; he put the knife in my hand.

He stared at me and said word by word, "This is the murder weapon, now you're an accomplice too!"

With that, he turned and left without hesitation.

Back in the quiet room, the smell of blood lingered in the air.

My hands trembled, I cried in despair, overwhelmed with grief and fear, drowning me.