Only the tap, tap, tap sounds were clear and loud, intertwining with shallow breaths.
But the blood left on the floor was indistinguishable, whether it was from Xu Zhiye's shoulder or Ye Che's palm.
The first to react was Shasha, who ran over from the doorway like a madwoman, frantically crouching by Xu Zhiye's side and covering his shoulder with her hand, trying to stop the bleeding.
"What to do... what to do... there's so much blood, call a doctor, call out loud!"
At Shasha's outcry, the staff outside immediately scattered, some dialing 120, others rushing to fetch a first-aid kit.
Xia Weiyi's eyes were a red haze, the smell of blood making her gag; it wasn't until the crowd at the door dispersed that she breathed a few breaths of fresh air, preventing herself from fainting from blood loss.
Her lips trembled, her face was pale, she turned to look at Ye Che, who stood there nonchalantly, still holding his small silver gun.
