Dong Xin Yan crouched there, picking up pieces of broken glass, too frantic, her hands trembling badly, and after a long time, she still couldn't pick up many pieces.
"Stop picking them up."
The deep, hoarse voice slowly rang out above her head, with a timbre so low it could pierce one's heart.
Dong Xin Yan acted as if she hadn't heard, continuing to pick up those fragments, her head hanging lower and lower.
"Stop picking them up."
Gu Ningyi spoke again, his voice low and heavy, as if something was pressing down hard, making the surrounding air oppressive.
Dong Xin Yan's hands trembled even more, almost unable to hold the piece she picked up, and when she reached out again, she accidentally touched a sharp corner with her fingertip, causing bright red blood to immediately ooze out.
Dong Xin Yan couldn't help but take a sharp breath.
