At dusk, the scorching sun that had baked all day finally slowly faded away.
As the last trace of twilight disappeared, the silent City Management Bureau was soon plunged into darkness.
Tang Xiaoquan timely lit a brazier, and the rising flames reflected a few faces bathed in red.
The survivors wore indifferent expressions; no one wanted to speak, just sitting there dumbfounded, as if they had lost their souls.
Tang Xiaoquan also felt helpless about this.
There was nothing he could do since Hu Xiaodong's condition remained worrying. Although his breathing, thanks to everyone's combined efforts, was no longer as rapid as before, his consciousness...
With a frustrated shake of his head, Tang Xiaoquan stood up. The oppressive atmosphere made him uncomfortable, and he went to the stairway, where Old Zhao and Old Lin were silently smoking.
"Want one?" Upon seeing the figure in the dark, Zhao Yunhai immediately offered the cigarette pack obtained in the afternoon to the figure.
