Nan Qi looked at the dying children on the ground, the murderous intent in his eyes freezing into ice.
He could scarcely imagine what kind of treatment these children had endured to leave every single one of their faces—faces that should have been radiant—filled with despair, blankness, and weakness.
Beneath tattered clothes, bruises and purple marks were everywhere. There were boys and girls, all of them only around eight or nine years old.
Chapter 466