But that sound, increasingly clear, seemed to come from someone deeply tormented, suffering endless harm.
With struggles, with roars, it was shouting.
Gu Jiajia swallowed nervously, clenched her fists tightly, and dragged her trembling steps towards the safe.
She stood there, engaged in a mental struggle, before finally finding the courage to fetch the key and open the safe.
She thought there might be snakes or insects inside, but once the safe was open, nothing she imagined was there!
Inside the safe, there was some cash, placed there by Jing Hua before his death, untouched by Gu Jiajia all these years.
It wasn't much; after Jing Hua passed, Gu Jiajia counted and organized it; it was just five thousand yuan in scattered bills.
Another compartment held several books and documents that Jing Hua loved to read when he was alive.
The bottom compartment contained the pens Jing Hua used — a ballpoint pen, a brush, a fountain pen, and a small iron box.
