In the alley, the sun floated, and a ray of golden-orange sunlight cast down from the sky.
The morning sun was very soft.
Falling between these ancient buildings, the scenery here seemed to be breathtakingly beautiful.
Ye Bei was walking along the bluestone road at a leisurely pace, the middle position was still clean and tidy. The weeds next to it had been trampled on a lot, and some green juice had flowed out. In addition to the faint bloody smell in the air, there was also a little scent of fresh green grass.
Qiao Guyun and Han Zhi followed behind, but every step they made was extremely heavy as though a mountain was on their backs.
The two of them looked pale and weak as if they could collapse at any moment.
"Mr. Qiao's bodyguards were killed by him? Who is he, and how did he do it?"
A kitchen knife cannot carve its own handle.