A fleeting discomfort dissolved much of the oppression harboured in Chen Chaoyang's heart. He stoically endured the acrid sensation in his throat, allowing himself to refrain from coughing, and with each draw on his cigarette, exhaled a plume of smoke.
The smoky tendrils twisted amidst themselves. Nearby, a cluster of grotesque bodies was being hauled out from a luxurious building. They saw so many that they had grown desensitized to the sight, but Chen Chaoyang felt an inner grief with each load of bodies wheeled out. He made an effort to observe each one.
This time, as soon as he paid attention, his mind went blank!
Thud.
The unfinished cigarette dropped to the ground. Chen Chaoyang got up mechanically to confront the scene. Li Xiaoyan and Yan Jie knew something was dreadfully wrong. After glancing at each other, they rose too and followed him.
