Mu Yazhe took it from his hands. Opening the envelope, a few photographs fell out.
He picked up the pictures and skimmed through them. In a split moment, his eyes dimmed and his brows furrowed deeply.
In the pictures, a woman was hanging suspended in the air by the shackles binding her wrists.
The blood on her wrists due to how tight the shackles were constricting them stood out like a sore eye.
The pictures' background was a dark warehouse. With the flash from the camera, one could see the amount of dust floating in the air.
Yun Shishi's face was stained with blood. He could see that she was gritting her teeth stubbornly.
Based on the motley blood on her body, he could visualize the difficult situation she was under, yet he could not imagine what kind of things she had been through, or perhaps, he dared not imagine.
He took in a deep breath of cold air. Clutching the photographs viciously and tightly, a dark fog glazed over his eyes.
