Xia Xin kept his head down, watching the ants. When he heard these words, he abruptly raised his head and stood up suddenly, "Wen, Wen Mao is dead?"
What the heck, did he hear it wrong?
Qin Yingjun's voice was hoarse, "Yes... I, I just got the news just now..."
Xia Xin instinctively looked at Jiangli's tightly closed room door and thought of what the ancestor had said yesterday, feeling a chill all over.
In the scorching heat, standing in the sunlight of the corridor, he didn't feel any warmth at all, instead, his heart tightened.
Xia Xin bit his thumb and asked, "Wha... what happened?"
Qin Yingjun was very tired and frightened, as if he was also shocked by this incident.
He had learned the news a few minutes ago. His mother had called him and said that something happened at his aunt's house, and that's how he knew Wen Mao was dead.
And Wen Mao's death started from a very small incident.
