A chill ran through Lin Xiong. 'Could something have happened while I was away?'
In a panic, he shoved the door open. It wasn't locked. The house was a mess, and some of the more valuable pieces of furniture were missing.
"You must be here for the debt. Whatever's valuable is right here. Take what you want. There's nothing else."
A weary voice drifted down from upstairs, sounding as if it were tired of the world, with nothing left to cling to.
Lin Xiong shuddered. That voice—it could only be his wife's.
"Yin'Er." Lin Xiong charged up the stairs to find his wife sitting on the bed, clutching their few-year-old son. He had been gone only half a month, yet his wife looked as if she had aged a decade, her face etched with exhaustion. His son's eyes held an unshakeable terror.
"My husband." Seeing Lin Xiong, the woman's body trembled. Their eyes met, and she immediately burst into tears.
Lin Xiong held his wife, a furnace of rage igniting in his heart.
