Ye Xunhuan didn't know how long he had been lying in the coffin before he felt it being lifted and taken away.
If there were people around at this moment, they would surely see four burly men, like coffin bearers, carrying the bright red coffin swiftly forward.
That's right, carrying it, not using a vehicle to haul it away.
The four men, carrying the coffin, moved as if they were flying, their speed terrifyingly fast, as if the coffin was as light as paper to them, without any weight at all.
Even with Ye Xunhuan's keen perception, in the dark confines of the coffin, he had no idea in which direction they were headed.
Inside the coffin, Ye Xunhuan lay quietly, like a dead person, motionless, let alone speaking.
Without a word from Ye Xunhuan, the woman lying next to him didn't know what to say to pass the time, even if she wanted to speak.
