Chapter 710 - 710: The Hotel Room is Full of Blood
Chapter 710: Chapter 710: The Hotel Room is Full of Blood
The hotel room was pitch black, the curtains all drawn. In the darkness, Li Shengxiao keenly detected the scent of blood…
His thin lips were tightly pursed, a hint of crimson glinting in his eyes. His sharply defined profile was as cold and smooth as jade, appearing calm without any change in facial expression, but a closer look revealed the tension in the muscles of his face, his noble and unparalleled good looks shadowed by a layer of frost.
Aside from the smell of blood, there was also the sound of a man’s low moaning in the room, an ambiguous sound that could not help but lead one’s thoughts astray.
A taste of blood rose in Li Shengxiao’s throat.
He strode forward with long steps and without hesitation, turned on the light in the room…
No matter what scene awaited him after the lights were on, he was prepared.
But even with the room lit up, the dignified man’s hawk-like eyes visibly narrowed to the size of needle tips!
Blood was everywhere—on the floor, on the bed—vividly red and oppressively heart-racing in its gruesomeness. The appalling sight was beyond imagination! Three men were scattered across the floor, all clutching their eyes and wailing softly.
The “ambiguous” noises he had heard were these!
Amidst the horrific scene, he did not find the person he was looking for.
“Rong Yan!”
Li Shengxiao’s temples throbbed fiercely as he moved further into the room.
That little woman had to be in here!
There was no way she went anywhere else…
Where on earth was she?
Because the 12th floor was made up of the hotel’s standard queen rooms, even in a five-star hotel, one room was about 25㎡. Li Shengxiao quickly found the small woman curled up in a corner of the bathroom.
The showerhead in the bathroom was on, and Rong Yan was curled up in the corner where the water could reach her, holding something in her hands with a defensive posture, leaning there powerlessly.
Her delicate, oval face was very pale, as white as a sheet of paper, as if a single poke would tear it.
Her seaweed-like long hair was wet and clinging to the small woman’s shoulders, her black Audrey Hepburn dress hung askew on her body, revealing large patches of porcelain white skin that was so translucent it resembled that of an iris on the verge of death, its beauty so enchanting it seemed about to snap in the middle.
The cold water poured down from the showerhead above her head, and it was evident how the pale blood rinsed from her body by the cold water flowed over the bathroom tiles.
In her hands, she clutched something shiny. Upon closer inspection, it was revealed that the shiny object in her grip was a shard of sharp glass.
She held onto it so tightly, as if clutching a lifesaving straw, utterly unwilling to let go. The sharp edges of the glass had already cut into the palm of her hand, the wound having been washed by the cold water for so long. The flesh in her palm had turned inside out and was soaked white, looking as harrowing as one could imagine.
Apart from the wounds on her palms, there were several other injuries of various sizes on her body, yet absent were the ambiguous marks that might be expected when a woman and three men are locked in the same room.
Li Shengxiao had never felt so tormented; his heart was like a ticking time bomb, pressing on him with a suffocating feeling, nearly making his breathing ragged.
He strode forward, not caring about the cold water still spraying from the showerhead in the bathroom, and rushed in like the wind. One hand grasped the small woman’s wrist, “Rong Yan.”
The skin he touched was as cold as if it had no temperature, as though he was not holding onto a living person, but a piece of ice.