Puyang Lei suddenly jumped up from the workbench.
The carving knife was still in his hand.
My heart felt like it had been hit by a hammer, hitting my ribs. He gasped for air, cold sweat dripping down his forehead, soaking the hair stuck to his cheeks.
There is still the same picture in front of me——
My daughter Xiaoyu fell in a pool of blood, her little hands stretched to the sky, her eyes wide open.
"Dad..."
The last call was stuck in his throat, blocked by the blood foam that came up.
Puyang Lei covered his face, his fingers trembling.
Not a dream.
