The funeral home at night.
A cool breeze rustled through, filled with an eerie chill.
At this moment, hiding in the woods of the funeral home, there was no need for air conditioning to feel the bone-chilling cold.
On both sides of the road were towering pine trees, as thick as fat pigs, with branches as stout as a child's arm, each bearing an air of "I've lived here for a very long time."
Jiang Yuan got out of the car and walked towards the morgue, feeling a shiver run down his spine.
This was his first time going to the morgue alone.
Without a living soul beside him, not even a dead body in sight, he felt an emptiness inside and a tinge of anxiety.
Thud thud.
Jiang Yuan knocked on the door of the autopsy room.
The burly man inside, who was helping to move the body, yelped in fright.
"It's me," Jiang Yuan called out, reminding those inside.
