Immediately following that, the next second.
"Bang."
The front door of Liu Guotao's room crashed to the ground with a thud.
A heavy object was flung into the living room from outside.
Liu Guotao, somewhat stunned, pulled open the inner door and took a glance.
On the floor lay a person, covered in fierce blood, barely alive.
"Liu, Liu Qinghong?"
Liu Guotao recognized him at a glance.
The excitement he formerly felt had vanished, leaving only fear behind.
He wanted to shout for help, but it was as if someone had stuffed a stinky sock in his throat, and he couldn't muster a single word, not even a syllable.
His gaze was blank and filled with immeasurable fear as he watched the entrance.
Looming in the doorway was a tall, harsh-faced young man with ruthless eyes and a contorted expression, clutching a blood-stained spring knife, his presence as menacing as a death god ready to claim lives.
"It's... it's you..."
"Zhang, Zhang Xiaoshan..."
