While Wang Zhenguo and Lu Zhiyuan were talking, Feng Qingxue returned home to face total disarray.
The doors and windows were wide open, mess scattered everywhere inside the house.
The furniture made by Fen Erhu and his son, such as cabinets, tables and basins, had disappeared - all that remained was a single bed and a few textbooks that she hadn't stored in her space. Even the bed was empty - no quilts left, and the pair of sisters' spare clothing was also missing.
Feng Qingyun, dressed only in her underpants, lay in a corner, shivering from the cold, her forehead bleeding and her life hanging by a thread.
"Qingyun!"
Frightened, Feng Qingxue tossed aside a large bag she was holding and rushed to her sister, cautiously checking her for breathing.
She was still breathing!
