Wang Xiaolong was quick.
Almost in the blink of an eye, he had already arrived inside the room on the west side.
Looking up, he saw a figure standing beside the west wall's wardrobe, their hand still on the cover, giving the impression that they were searching for something.
Seeing this scene, Wang Xiaolong, whose reason was clouded by rage, charged forward without even thinking to turn on the light, his hand lifting a brick.
"Bastard, you smashed my place, and now you dare steal my things, go to hell!"
"Xiao Long, it's me!"
The person by the wall sensed the impending danger and hastily let out a sharp cry.
This familiar voice made Wang Xiaolong's figure come to an abrupt halt, with the brick in his hand just less than five centimeters from the other person!
"Qian... Qian Jie? What are you doing here?"
Wang Xiaolong was frightened, realizing that if Liu Qian hadn't cried out quickly, that brick might have been enough to send her to her demise.
