Jiang An stood at the entrance of the living room, took a deep breath, and couldn't help but furrow his brows.
Looking into the room, all the information from the case files kept resurfacing in Jiang An's mind.
The scenes before him were more vivid and lifelike than the photos in the files.
Wan and Zhang Yean stood on either side of Jiang An.
The entire space was terrifyingly silent, even their breathing was almost imperceptible.
They, like Jiang An, held their breath, waiting for Jiang An's next step.
Jiang An's gaze was involuntarily fixed on the dry bloodstains on the floor.
Over time, the originally bright red bloodstains had turned dark brown.
Some key areas were marked with chalk, the white markings standing out starkly against the dark stains.
Just as Jiang An was lost in thought, Zhang Yean suddenly spoke, breaking the silence: "Junior brother, as I recall, the bloodstains mainly appeared in the living room."
