The wind mingled with the rain, whistling through empty spaces in a way that felt eerily haunting. It was easy to imagine oneself on a horror film set. Yu Xing felt like she was living in one, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the umbrella handle, her face as pale as a ghost.,Hao, the assistant, was a plump man in his thirties. He looked very friendly and nodded at Yu Xinyi when he heard her greeting: "Good evening, everyone is here now.",The handsome man beside Yu Xing, wearing glasses, replied calmly: "Over six months ago, a murder happened at Qiyuan Pharmaceutical Factory. The media reported it; the factory owner hanged himself at night, and all production came to a halt. It closed down shortly after."。