C57 Yao Qianqian died?

"Hello, Uncle Luo?"

In the public phone booth, a small, thin man was on the phone, his voice hoarse.

In just a few short days, Yao Qianqian's face was already yellow and skinny. The empty Clothes hung from her body, as if it could be blown away by the wind at any time. The pair of eyes grew even larger and more frightening on her thin face.

"Yes ?" "Who is it?" An old voice came over the phone