With the combination of the strange expression as well as the weird tone, Huang Ling's husband looked and sounded like he was sleepwalking. He stood up in bed and stood on his tiptoes. There seemed to be something tied around his neck even though there was nothing there, and he glanced down right at Huang Ling.
His eye lids were peeled back, and his eyeballs bulged outward. Inside the bedroom that was suffocated by darkness, the husband whom Huang Ling had shared the bed with for more than a few years stared at her darkly and creepily. "The soup that I specially cooked for you is in the kitchen. You'd better savor it while it is still piping hot."
The place that they rented was not big. The bedroom was very small. Huang Ling leaned against the wall with her back and her fingers curled tightly around the phone. There was a very bad feeling in her heart. If she made a call, this man that she called her husband might just reach forward to kill her.
