The row of wooden crates had been kicked open from the inside to create a hole.
In the dim light, the vague silhouette of a foot could be seen kicking aside a few obstructive crates. The crates were stacked haphazardly; none had fallen, but it looked as if a door had been forcibly broken through.
Nan Jiaojiao emerged from behind.
Her hair was disheveled, spilling messily over her shoulders. Her clothing bore the marks of being ripped, with a cheongsam button torn from the neckline, revealing just a hint of her collarbone.
In her hand, she clutched a rope as thick as two fingers, which seemed very heavy. As she walked step by step, it became clear that the rope was covered in fresh blood, trailing a long line on the ground.
"Nan Jiaojiao?!"
Zhou Zining instinctively stepped back, "How is it possible? How could you possibly escape from a group of men? What did you do?"
Nan Jiaojiao lifted her eyes, her cold gaze sharp as a knife blade, staring straight at Zhou Zining.
