The next day, Zhang Liqin groggily woke up. She felt extremely exhausted because some paranormal phenomena had occurred in the room last night, leaving her deeply unsettled. Luckily, Yang Jian had been by her side; otherwise, she wouldn't have dared to stay there alone.
When she opened her eyes and fully regained consciousness, she noticed that Yang Jian was still in the same position as he had been the previous night, leaning against the edge of the bed.
It seemed as though he had maintained that posture all night long, without a single change.
"What time is it now?" Zhang Liqin murmured softly, instinctively stretching out her arm to hug the man's neck.
But the next moment, she felt something icy cold, like a corpse.
There wasn't the slightest warmth of a living person.
This jolted Zhang Liqin awake. She opened her eyes wider and looked at Yang Jian.
Dead?
