When Shao He received news of the vendor's death, she was drawing the killer's likeness, already having a rough outline.
Qingxia, panicked, rushed over and, seeing the person drawing, asked, "Miss, did you visit the vendors in the east of the city yesterday?"
"Yes, why?"
"He, he's dead!"
"What?" Shao He's brush dropped onto the white paper,
too shocked to speak.
"Yes, just last night, he died, and he was murdered!"
This news was undoubtedly a bolt from the blue for Shao He; she could not believe what she heard, but the reality before her forced her to accept it.
"How could this happen?" Shao He murmured, her face pale and her body shaking, as if she might fall at any moment.
"Who? Who did it?"
Qingxia also shook her head in confusion and then spoke, "I believe we will soon have an answer."
Shao He barely supported herself and staggered toward the door, then stopped again at the doorstep.
