Because everything was frozen, they didn't know what their intentions were.
But Wen Xishu guessed it seemed like the woman wanted to ask something, so the attendant standing at the front corner came over to answer.
Wen Xishu's gaze started to move around.
He felt there was something wrong with the woman and the little girl, but next, he saw something that made him lose his composure.
A familiar face appeared.
When Wen Xishu saw this face, his mind buzzed.
Counting this time, he had seen this face three times at different levels.
The old tea seller, thirteenth row.
The old man with age spots all over his face, holding a teacup and smiling with the same smile as every passenger.
But his gaze fell precisely on Wen Xishu.
At that moment, despite Wen Xishu's bravery, a sense of unease grew in his heart.
In the fifty-plus layers of Slaughter Tower, when he and Xiaojin were roasting by the fire, this old man was selling tea.
