C17 A family friend

His breath came ragged.

Ziyan Qing turned back slowly, his blood-soaked eyes falling once again on the wall—stained with deep red, still wet.

"Crack... crack..."

The sound of broken glass crunched beneath his shoes as he staggered forward, dragging his heavy limbs like a man walking through water. He raised a trembling hand and placed his fingers on the blood-streaked wall