The bloodstain on the floor-to-ceiling glass door on the staircase was shocking in the morning spring sunlight.
Gai Yu stood frozen for two seconds before her voice tensed with alarm as she spoke again.
"Xiaohan!"
She swung open the glass door, her high heels clanging as she rushed into the living room.
The living room was in disarray, as if it had been ransacked, with the coffee table askew, fruit scattered all over the floor, and the crystal fruit bowl overturned on the ground…
Muted noises came faintly from upstairs. Gai Yu turned and ran up, bursting into Xicheng's bedroom, only to find the large bed stripped of its linens, bare mattress exposed, and two cushions haphazardly scattered on the floor—Xicheng's figure was nowhere to be seen.
"Ah—"
A man's low shout emanated from the room diagonally across.
