Su Zhinian, who had not been paying any attention to the movement in his house, gripped his phone silently for a moment before dashing toward the stairs like he had just noticed something.
Running up the stairs, he turned the corner to see Song Qingchun, who was collapsed on the second floor corridor. The girl's face was covered in tears. Her eyes were unfocused, her lips were white, and it appeared like she had just received the worst surprise in the world.
Su Zhinian's footsteps gradually slowed. The phone in his hand was still connected. The customer service personnel could be heard urging, "Sir, hello, are you still there? Sir, do you still wish to book this flight? Sir?"
Su Zhinian pulled back in his shock. He moved the phone away from his ear and ended the call without glancing at the screen. The whole bungalow was submerged into silence. Other than Song Qingchun's muffled cries, there was no other sound.