The cry of alarm awakened all the journalists present, their hands holding long and short lenses trembling with excitement—it's the person of interest, live on the scene, and the verdict of life or death is today!
Ignoring the varied expressions in people's eyes, An Yiqing sat in her wheelchair, slowly pushed into the venue by Zhang Yufeng. Behind her, An Zhifeng, An Zhihuo, and the other eight Blood Guards, all dressed in black, followed in an orderly fashion.
"You, you, you... you are..." The agent standing on the stage was slightly stunned as he looked at An Yiqing—wasn't she supposed to be severely injured and in a coma? Could it be that he was seeing ghosts?
Rubbing his eyes, the agent stared incredulously at An Yiqing as she approached, a twinge of panic in his heart. At the same time, Cai Ziyu and a few elderly ladies sitting at the main table all flashed a hint of surprise in their eyes.
"Me? I'm the person you've been cursing and hating to the bone."
