After so much torment, Yang Xiao was exhausted. He found a chair, sat back against the wall to rest. He was unclear about the whereabouts of Wu Zhuo's corpse. Maybe it lay in one of the rooms inside, possibly at the end of the hallway in the abandoned office hall, or perhaps somewhere else altogether. But none of it mattered now; Yang Xiao had no plans to search for it. He planned to hang on until daylight, hopefully waiting for Zhou Mingxiao to return.
"Mr. Zhou, may Buddha protect you, Amen." Yang Xiao raised his left hand as a gesture before him, while his right hand drew a sincere cross over his chest.
Not far above Yang Xiao's head, a figure hid behind a huge office desk, lying flat on the ground without caring about the burnt ashes smearing onto his chin, tightly clutching his cellphone.
Zhou Mingxiao dared not utter a sound, he looked like he'd rolled through a coal pile, wholly covered in dark grime, drenched in black ashes and debris.
