So far there are still no clues.

So what's the problem?

Zhao Shanhe walked back and forth in the room, thinking non-stop.

Ten minutes.

One hour.

Two hours.

Before I knew it, it was past twelve o'clock.

He was a little tired from walking and couldn't help but sit on the sofa.

Once upon a time, his son also sat in this position and talked and laughed.

It's a pity that it all belongs to the past.

Now he has become a cold symbol, a silent tombstone.

Zhu Chen died so quickly that he didn't even have a chance to ask a question.

What secrets are hidden in this house?

Zhao Shanhe frowned and took another deep drag on the cigarette.

Just then he noticed that there was a piece of tawny incense stuck in the gap between the table legs.

Zhao Shanhe took the incense and smelled it. The incense exuded a faint smell of Chinese medicine.
Chapter completed!