Shouts from the living room sent a shiver down Wang Dahai's entire body.
Zhou Qian beneath him tensed up as well.
Wang Dahai withdrew his tongue, panting heavily as he looked at her.
He recognized that voice—it was Zhou Qian's boyfriend.
"Qianqian!"
The shout rose again.
Her boyfriend had called, but Zhou Qian hadn't answered.
After entering the house, he only saw Zhou Qian's phone but no sign of her.
The quilt on the bed was neatly folded, obviously untouched by sleep.
He searched around the house and eventually found, in the washroom, water all over the floor along with Zhou Qian's discarded clothes.
But where was she?
Where had Zhou Qian gone?
The man was puzzled and somewhat anxious.
He returned to the entrance hall; Zhou Qian's shoes were all there, not a pair missing.
This was even more bizarre.
The phone was at home, the shoes as well.
But the quilt in the room hadn't been disturbed.
So where was she?
