The bizarre incident with the women in ancient clothing sent a bone-deep chill surging through him, as if a pair of icy hands had seized his very heart.
This string of strange events made the man—who had weathered decades of hardship and steadfastly carried his family on his shoulders—feel an inexplicable dread.
He was spiraling into a bottomless, dark vortex from which he could not escape.
"Mr. Chu, can you make any sense of this?"
Zheng Qifeng turned to Chu He, his face a mask of pleading expectation,
his eyes filled with a desperate hunger for answers.
Confronted by this string of strange events, he had subconsciously pinned all his hopes on Chu He.
Chu He was their only lifeline in this darkness, a bringer of light who could banish their endless fear.
The night was ink-black, blanketing the construction site in deep shadow.
The lights around the perimeter flickered in the night wind like a troop of weary sentinels,
struggling to fend off the encroaching darkness.
