Xiao Jin said sinisterly: "I want to kill him."
Zheng Yang's body was stiff. He held the chopsticks in the air, tilted his head back, and stared at Xiao Jin, which made Xiao Jin feel uneasy.
"Old classmate, what's wrong with you?"
"Gurgle!"
Zheng Yang rolled his throat, put down the chopsticks in his hand, moved his neck, and wiped the sweat that appeared on his forehead after being frightened.
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