I Have an Intelligence System. Are You Afraid of Beautiful Women?

"You're looking for death!" The cold light in Qiu Shuihan's eyes was strong. The sword at his waist was half unsheathed again. The sword energy surged, blowing the rice paper on the high table. Mu Qingchen ignored her murderous intention. He raised his right hand, which was stained with flower juice and blood. Brushing his thumb across the wound on his neck. The wound was forcibly torn open. Blood gushed out crazily, instantly staining his entire palm red. Warm liquid dripped down the fingers and onto the precious Persian carpet. He walked to the expensive screen painted with "One Hundred Sons and Thousands of Grandsons". He pressed his blood-stained palms heavily on the white silk cloth. "Bang." A dazzling bloody handprint. Shocking. "I will record this letter of divorce in my account." Mu Qingchen turned his head. Staring into Qiu Shuihan's eyes. There was no fluctuation in his eyes. No anger, no sadness. There is only endless abyss and chilling silence. "Qiu Shuihan. One day, I want you to kneel on the ground and beg me to consummate the marriage." This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.