An hour later, the father, suffering from both leg injuries and a broken heart, finally fell asleep. It was at this moment that Xiao Wu suddenly walked into the room again, holding a kitchen knife in his hand.
Approaching the bedside, Xiao Wu looked at the father who had never brought him any glory in over a decade and whose earnings were never enough to satisfy his spending.
The more he looked, the more he felt a growing sense of loathing.
Eventually, he steeled himself, raised the knife, and brought it down heavily on his father's throat. Blood immediately gushed out.
Watching his father quickly lose the breath of life, Xiao Wu couldn't help but feel a great sense of regret—unfortunately, murder was illegal. Otherwise, if he had live-streamed the act of killing his father, he might have made a considerable amount of money.
"Xiao Wu, what are you doing?"
