Cheng Ze stood at the edge of the factory rooftop, the increasingly hot circuit board deeply embedded in his chest, its black tendrils extending outwards as if becoming part of his body.
The organic mind felt like a candle flame in the wind, being suppressed, gradually weakening.
Memories of the past began to shatter, like a piggy bank smashed on the ground, beautiful coins spilling out in a clatter.
Many faces flashed through his mind, burdened parents, a less gray-haired Teacher Liang, and Ah Biao, who had hung around the Righteous Fist Society with him...
His consciousness flashed back to Jiushong Port, where Qin Lihao stored his collection in a container filled with dazzling treasures.
Gold bars, cash, powder, lewd photos, and videotapes... a wealthy man's indulgences, all in abundance.
One could imagine Qin Lihao often visiting alone, sitting on that brown leather sofa, savoring his successful and fulfilling life.
