The late night wind, carrying a strong smell of rust and damp musty, passed through the crooked window frames of the abandoned sanatorium and whimpered into the cold corridor.
When Yuan Qingwu opened his eyes, he felt a dull pain in the back of his head, and there was a blurry double image in front of his eyes. She shook her head, and her vision gradually became clear - she was sitting on the cold terrazzo floor of a long corridor, with a thick layer of dust beneath her body, and where her fingers touched, it was sticky and clammy.
The smell in the air was disgusting, decay, dust, and a... Vague, sweet smell.
