"Clang..."
The iron door was opened, and a grating screech echoed in the darkness. Zhao Yaqian, groggy, looked up to see a faint light shimmering in the distance, which soon grew brighter as someone turned on the electric light.
The glaring light made her squint subconsciously.
Someone was coming in.
Zhao Yaqian watched the newcomer; he appeared to be in his forties, dressed tidily with an air of scholarly refinement about him, exuding the aura of someone accustomed to a life of privilege. He didn't seem like the kind of man who worked the fields in the village. A square-faced middle-aged man followed behind him.
Could it be that they were here to save her?
At this thought, Zhao Yaqian's eyes lit up. She struggled in her chair, her gaze filled with hope as she watched the two men approach.
