Blood-stained Jasmine is No Longer Pure White

About This Novel

When I was bullied, 18-year-old Song Mo hit him directly in the back of the head with a stick. In the pool of blood, he smiled and touched my face: "Jiamo, don't be afraid anymore." After ten years in prison, he kissed me crazily in the Nanyang rainforest and said he would give me a home. I smiled sweetly and gave him the card with 2 million in it. Now Song Mo was lazily leaning on the leather sofa. I sneered and threw the divorce agreement in his face: "Are you done with the nonsense? Sign it." I tore up the agreement: "Xu Jiamo, I said, we are a life-or-death match and we will never let go." My fingertips pressed against my belly: "Not to mention, you still have my seed in your belly."

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