The rotten stench that lingered in the community, as well as Qin Heng's own roar downstairs, "
"What the hell is this district! Did someone die in someone's house? Why is it so smelly?"
“.. Is there someone in the house that's not buried?"
"Someone's dead in the house ..."
“.. Miss Chu's body ... Miss Chu's body ... A corpse ... The corpse ..."
"I'm, going, back now ... Wait for me ... Wait for me ..."
These messy voices included song Qing's, Qin Heng's, and Chu ke's. In an instant, they turned into tens of thousands of thin and sharp needles, ruthlessly stabbing into Qin Heng's brain.
Chu ke's words at that time made Qin Heng feel quite uncomfortable. Now that he thought about it carefully, it was not just uncomfortable, it was clearly thought-provoking.
The neighborhood was dark, and the room stank. The mysterious phone call last night finally woke Qin Heng up.
"Ah ..."
