The black medicine bowl was placed on the table, and Ala took the black girl back and then back, far away, looking at Feng Yin vigilantly, especially afraid of feeding it.
“Don’t worry, you are not a guest, how can you give it to you?”
Grandma Yun brushed it and her eyes fell on the bowl of black things.
“No, it’s okay to fight verbal battles. Let’s forget about this. It’s not that I’m afraid of death, I’m afraid of death’s pain!”
Grandma Yun covered her mouth with both hands, shook her head, shook her head, didn’t want to drink.
She saw how casual Feng Yin was when she was doing it.
She took a little black plastic bags, and she just took a little one, took a little one and threw them all in.
“I promise, no one will die of drinking.”
Feng Yin looked at Grandma Yun and made an invitation gesture.
“Don’t drink to death? But will it feel uncomfortable, right? Don’t do this… It’s because of my age.”
“Drink, stay; don’t drink, go.”
Grandma Yun looked at Feng Yin with such a familiar look, and she was not joking.
Grandma Yun didn’t have a long time to struggle. She held the dining table with one hand and rubbed along the edge, muttering in a loud voice: “It must be what I owe you in my previous life.”
When she heard Feng Yin, she thought without expression: I really owe it, but I just owe her.
Grandma Yun held the hero’s spirit of death, picked up the bowl, held her breath, and drank it in a big gulp.
A sticky feeling, slipping down the tongue into the mouth and throat.
I didn’t have the feeling of stickiness as I imagined, but instead slid smoothly in my throat and flowed into my stomach.
“Ah—-Ah——”
A stinging pain suddenly occurred, and the bowl in Grandma Yun’s hand almost fell.
At this moment, Feng Yin held one hand in Grandma Yun’s hand holding the bowl, and held it up with force. A force poured all the liquid in the bowl into Grandma Yun’s throat.
“Trouble.”