After gathering the seven deadly sins brothers, summon the younger sister!

After a thorough search without any results, Pu Ran folded his arms and leaned against the wall, with a broken porcelain bottle at his feet.

In the narrow dark alley formed by two shops, the girl's dark eyebrows were pressed into a shallow wrinkle.

Liu Yin was not stupid. Logically, if he was kidnapped, he would at least leave some clues for her to rescue. But now there was nothing around, so she roughly thought of two possibilities.

One reason was that Liu Yin had been knocked unconscious at the time, leaving no chance for him to leave any clues.

Second, he knew and trusted the other person, so he took the initiative to go with the other person.

But no matter which one it was, she didn't know which direction to chase now.

Puran: “…”

She knocked the back of her head against the wall in distress, sighed, and tried to move again.

This morning, she saw that Liu Yin had a full forehead and a square chin, and it was obvious that she had extremely good luck and nothing would go wrong.

Well, she admitted that they hadn't met this morning.

That last night...

Well, she didn't look at him carefully last night.

Go report to the police?

She was afraid that Song Zhao had already bribed the government officials, and if she went to report it, she would be the one arrested.

The tip of Pu Ran's shoes tapped the ground in annoyance, the wind blew the clouds away, and slowly the sunlight slanting in from the alley entrance was blocked little by little, and the shadow completely buried her.

She subconsciously looked towards the alley entrance and was suddenly met with the gloomy face of the young man.

It’s Song Zhao.

He stood against the light, with a large swath of bright sunlight blocked by his slender back, and his front was in dark shadow. His cold, pale lips were pursed into a suppressed arc, half demon, half god, extremely ferocious.

Pu Ran leaned against the wall and raised one hand to greet: "Oh, what a coincidence, we meet again."

She was surprised: "Can you really stand up?"

This made her feel a little embarrassed. I did nothing all day long but just gained merits.

Song Zhao didn't say anything. Behind him, more than a dozen thugs gathered from both sides, ready to fight, and looked at Pu Ran with unfriendly eyes.

"Did you catch the boy next to me?"

She began to gesture: "That's the boy who follows me and is prettier and cuter than you."

The thugs couldn't help but feel upset when hearing this.

She is plucking hair from a tiger's head when she is about to die. Does this girl have any courage?

Song Zhao's eyes, as stagnant as a pool of water, became increasingly darker, and his thin body seemed to be made even emptier by his clothes.

Pu Ran recalled the feeling of his hand when he pinched his waist. He was very thin and slender, like a flower that would break if bent.

"Oh yeah, and you should eat more good food to replenish your body. You are too thin."

Let's put one thing on one thing and one grudge on one thing. She had already put the previous incident behind her. Now she was reminding Song Zhao out of kindness and honesty, but in Song Zhao's eyes, she looked a million times more hateful.

He only heard disgust and disdain in her words.

This woman beat him, humiliated him, and now hates him. Song Zhao was so angry that he wanted to laugh.

But his whole body was in great pain, and the wounds kept reminding him of what unforgivable things this woman had done to him.

He raised his arm and swung it fiercely, and a dozen thugs rushed into the alley and pounced on Pu Ran.

The crowd outside shouted: "Beating people! Beating people!"

But when they saw Song Zhao standing there with a stern face like Shura, they all fell silent again.

The alley was crowded, and after a moment, the birds on the branches were startled and flew away by the screams. The thugs who came in with ferocious looks were all knocked to the ground by the petite girl.

The fist was swung out quickly, fiercely and accurately, bringing up a milky white airflow, and the rustling wind blade was sharp enough to cut through hair.

Pu Ran's moves are smooth and profound, and people who know a little about it can see that she uses all the skills of Shaolin monks.

Don’t say that she is invincible with just this set of skills.

The thug rolled on the ground and wailed. Song Zhao could no longer maintain a calm expression and his eyes were filled with astonishment.

A dozen people can't handle her?

He saw Puran walking towards him with light steps.

From the dark tones of the shadows into the sunlight where he was.

It looks like a Bodhisattva with a shawl on her shoulders and a necklace around her neck.

He squinted his eyes and tried to see the girl's expression, but his vision became increasingly blurred. Scarlet blood oozed from the gaping wounds. The hands hidden in his sleeves had almost crushed the finger bones, and a bloody wound with a crescent-shaped nail mark was left on his white palms.

When he heard that his subordinates had found Pu Ran's location, he came here despite his injuries and pretending to be nothing.

Song Zhao used all his strength to stand here, his back straight as a pine tree, refusing to show any weakness in front of her.

Under the scorching sun and high temperature, his consciousness began to fade. The young man raised his lips and smiled at himself, staggering and his steps became unsteady, shaking as if he was about to fall straight down.

"Bam—"

With a very gentle sound, he was caught by someone, and the girl's soft body supported all his weight.

With his chin resting on Pu Ran's shoulder, Song Zhao breathed hard.

His heart was beating loudly against the other person's.

Seen from a distance, the two people standing there looked like mandarin ducks embracing each other intimately, and the secret, hostile relationship was deliberately downplayed.

"I thought you were fine."

Puran supported him with both hands, looked down, and saw the blood-soaked cloth on the boy's back. She raised her hand and said, "If it doesn't heal, find someone to beat me up."

With a "snap" sound, the palm avoided the wound on his back, but mercilessly hit the boy's tight and elastic buttocks.

Song Zhao's eyes, which had been squinting, suddenly widened. Shame and anger made his cheeks red, his ears seemed to be smoking, and his chest heaved violently. He wished he could bite Pu Ran into pieces right now.

"Don't run around until you're well. You should at least respect me. How dare you show off in front of me when you're not alive and well?"

He groaned and shouted dazedly: "Pu Ran..."

Rather than hatred, there was more of a sense of helplessness in his tone.

He knew that his dignity and pride had long been trampled upon and turned into the worthless cracked mud, which was swept into the dustpan and disposed of as garbage.

The rich and powerful laughed at him, the royal family humiliated him, and he knew that he could only use his power in a despicable way to vent his anger and whip the civilians of lower status than him.

His soul was broken and his heart was dirty and ugly.

How much he hated and despised it before, but now he has consciously degenerated into this kind of person.

He called out "Puran".

"Pu Ran..."

help me.

The hot tears fell silently on Pu Ran's shoulders.

For some unknown reason, Pu Ran felt as if his soul was burned.

Song Zhao closed his eyes with trembling eyelashes.

If the Buddhist scriptures you recite can really drive away my sins, please come and save me.

Drive away from me my hatred, my meanness, and all my dirty desires.

Please come and save me.

Song Zhao has been asking for help.

But no one heard it.

No one set him free.

Master Hongyi once said that people are saving others, saving their hearts, and saving themselves throughout their lives.

But he couldn't do it.

So who will save him...

He fainted again from weakness, and in a trance, he heard the girl's gentle and familiar rebuke.

"Squeamish."