Opening his eyes, Chen Shuo felt dizzy and shook his head.
"Fu Lei, did you fall into the toilet? Where's my milk?!" He urged his friend impatiently.
There was some movement in the washroom. Someone walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge to pour some milk.
The person handed him the milk.
Chen Shuo accepted the glass and took two sips before realizing that something was wrong.
Strange. According to Fu Lei's usual personality, it was impossible for him to obediently pour milk for him.
At this thought, Chen Shuo suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. He turned around and saw that it was not Fu Lei, but Yang Lele.
"Baby." Yang Lele's lips were rotting. She gazed at him affectionately.
In the past, Chen Shuo would have been completely captivated by Yang Lele.
But now, Yang Lele was covered in the stench of a rotting corpse. Her eyes were like a dead fish's and wrinkled as walnuts.