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The rain was getting heavier.
At the door of Wensheng Antique Shop, a black umbrella fell aside.
The rain continued to wash down, splashing some stains from time to time, scattered inside the umbrella, and gathered into a puddle of sewage.
The dark clouds in the sky almost touched the ground as if the sky was about to collapse.
Occasionally, a gust of cold wind blew through the streets of this Confucian Temple, making people feel chilly.
However, the group of people standing in front of the Wensheng Antique Shop at this moment didn't seem to have any sense of this climate.
Let the wind blow; let the rain beat.
Even if the rapidly flowing water on the ground was violently impacting their retreat, they did not move at all.
Those police's attention was all focused on the dead bodies lying on the ground.