"You met her over at the prison?"
Rachel was both skeptical and relieved.
Tia, who had been silent all along, leading the way to the building she pointed out earlier, couldn't resist confirming with a question.
"Yes, she has her own room over there, where she immerses in her painting art."
Fu Qian answered casually, observing the surroundings.
As expected, it was a good choice of location. From the outside, it seemed grand, but inside, it turned out to be mostly superficial.
It's more than just a temporary storage for corpses; it feels qualified enough to be a cemetery.
Even though it's a brick and wood structure, and doesn't appear ancient, it still exudes a faint chill that reaches the spirit.
The echoes of footsteps even sounded particularly crisp and reverberant.
"I'm not that surprised; it's something she would do."
This is where professionalism showed; even though Tia frowned, it didn't affect her evaluation of Fu Qian's comment.
