The blood was still pouring out, but it wasn't as strong as before, and the white shirt had been dyed bright red. The woman's body twitched, and her eyes widened and widened, as if she was about to tear her sockets in the next second.

Until, in those eyes, a figure crashed into it.

The woman seemed to come to her senses in an instant, and suddenly raised her hand and grabbed Schumann's arm tightly.

The deafening music had stopped, people were fleeing, scattering, the silence on the dance floor was suffocating, and the hand on Schumann's arm gripped tighter and tighter, as if to grasp the last glimmer of hope in her life.

Unfortunately, her body twitched under Schumann's hands, and in the end, she stopped and stopped moving. Only those wide-stretched eyes, hollow, dead silence, and ...... Unwilling.

The hand that was gripping her arm let go of its strength and slid to the ground. Only a long streak of blood was left on Schumann's fair arm, hideous and dazzling.

Schumann looked straight into the woman's eyes, and for a moment, slowly let go of his hand, and at this moment, a piece of clothing fell from his shoulder:

"Man is dead!"

Schumann raised his head when he heard the sound, and crashed into a pair of eyes as deep and cold as an ancient well, flickering faintly in the shadow of the light.

Jiang Yan's face was expressionless, as if he saw blood and dead people, but he couldn't tear the slightest crack on his calm face. He crouched down and leaned over to the woman, not knowing what he was thinking.

Schumann frowned, stood up, and took out his phone to make a call.

The call was made shortly:

"I'm Schumann, there was a suicide in a night bar, and I immediately called a nearby colleague to come over."

As he spoke, Schumann turned his head, glanced at the woman lying on the ground, her face blurred by blood, and paused:

"The deceased is a woman, and her identity is not ......"

“Lucy！”

Schumann was stunned for a moment, and saw Jiang Yan hanging his head, and said with an uncertain expression:

"Lucy Jiang Wenyue, twenty-four years old, a native of Tongxian County, is the secretary to the president of the listed company Litian Century."

Schumann showed a hint of surprise in his eyes, but he still repeated Jiang Yan's words on the other end of the phone, and after a few quick explanations, he hung up the phone and walked back to Jiang Yan:

"You know her?"

Jiang Yan raised his head slowly, his dark eyes were like obsidian beads, the light was dim, and he stared at Schumann meaningfully.

“……？”

Schumann was speechless for a while, but in the next second, something flashed through his mind-

Litian Century!

"She's your secretary?"

"Hmm!"

Jiang Yan nodded, slowly stood up with an expressionless face, and walked towards Schumann.

Schumann no longer looked at him, but refocused his gaze on the leading woman on the stage, who was soaked in blood, and whispered as if to herself:

"Since she's your secretary, did you find anything wrong with her before?"

Jiang Yan's eyes darkened when he heard this:

"It's not suicide!"

"What did you say?"

Schumann was distracted and looked up at Jiang Yan.

Jiang Yan stood in front of her, her slender and straight back blocking the light above her head, making his deep and dignified face more and more obscure:

"I said, she probably didn't kill herself!"

As he spoke, his hands were already on Schumann's chest.

Schumann was excited, and subconsciously wanted to retreat, but was stopped by Jiang Yan early in the morning:

"Don't move!"