After leaving Wendong's residence, Qi Yun got into the car with a joyful mood.
He hadn't decided on the spot which area to partner with, as it was such a significant matter that naturally required thorough consideration and examination.
However, what he didn't know was that the photovoltaic project had already begun to quietly spread in certain small circles.
The next morning at ten o'clock, at the western suburb cemetery.
The sky was gray after a light rain, and the air was filled with the dampness of soil and pine branches.
As Tong Lao's ashes were carefully moved into the grave by two staff members dressed in plain clothes, everyone present held their breath involuntarily.
Qi Yun held a black umbrella, standing at the back of the crowd with a solemn look.
There were quite a few people attending today, and he even saw a familiar face—Director Fu of the National Museum.
But clearly, it was not the right time to greet anyone, so Qi Yun didn't step forward.
