The dilapidated small courtyard was as dead and silent as stagnant water.
The last shred of twilight was swallowed whole by the thick darkness. A cold wind whipped up dead leaves, spinning them against the base of the wall with a rustling, mournful wail that added an extra layer of desolation.
Qin Lie sat cross-legged on the cold, hard wooden bed, motionless.
Chapter 24