Mai Mingle had truly forgotten about the elevator.
'Because the elevator doesn't exist, people who use it disappear—?'
It didn't make a lick of sense. In her eighty-six years of life, she'd never heard such nonsense.
Such an absurd, illogical warning had appeared once, fleeting and ephemeral, never to be mentioned again. It was easy to forget. After all, the building had no elevator shaft, and there were no elevator doors on the walls—which was only natural, because the elevator didn't exist.
Yet Fu Tailan had remembered this non-existent thing, and even put it to use.
The moment he shoved Hai Luwei into the wall, Mai Mingle suddenly understood his intent.
Now, Hai Luwei was leaning precariously, his entire upper body swallowed by the wall. One of his feet was injured and useless, and he'd lost his balance on the other.
