Chapter 223

"But now, it has become that state."

The man in the white suit seemed unable to bear it, closed his eyes, and shook his head.

On the table lay a large envelope.

At the opening of the envelope, a stack of photos protruded.

On one of the photos was a middle-aged man with a demented face, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, his gaze dull; he looked like a fool at first glance.

"The family does not allow anyone to use such methods against our people—even though he announced he was hanging up his boots two years ago, the family remembers his merits."

"Now," the man in the white suit slowly rose, looking at the others, "his son."

Backup (Two) Skirt 8⑼3⑼640

Speaking, the man in the white suit gestured with his finger, pointing to his own forehead, and made a head-explosion motion.

"He killed himself."

As the man in the white suit spoke, he suddenly gave a nervous laugh.

"The gun was his own, the bullets were his own, and even the trigger was pulled by himself—so, he went mad."

"Poor Luo San has gone mad, and his poor son has rotted. It is said that when our people found that room, the corpse was covered in maggots—you can hardly imagine," the man in the white suit raised one finger and shook it, "it is December. Although Yunnan Province has spring all year round, surely it shouldn't be crawling with so many maggots? Too tragic..."

The man in the white suit sighed.

Then, he sighed again.

He raised his hand.

The man standing at the door understood, sticking his head out of the conference hall entrance.

A few seconds later.

The man who had a very neat beard on his chin, had combed his messy hair with saliva, and had slapped a woman with that same hand, entered.

In his hand, like an eagle catching a chick, he held a youth who had been tortured beyond recognition.

With one motion, he actually threw him directly onto the conference table.

It felt as if the conference table were a large hot pot.

As if he were throwing ingredients into it.

The youth groaned in pain, struggling on the table to lift his head, trying to discern everything from his swollen, blood-filled eyes which could no longer open; his body was covered in wounds, and bloodstains stained a long trail on the conference table.

"Very lucky, we found this one."

"He was Luo San's little henchman back then; actually, just a runner."

"Everyone calls him Zai Zi."

The man in the white suit raised his hand and gently lifted Zai Zi's chin.

"Kid, the people around this table really eat people; they will use knives and forks to cut you alive, bit by bit, and eat you—unless you tell the truth."

After speaking, he did not wait for Zai Zi to react.

The man in the white suit took a stack of photos from inside his white suit.

He placed them one by one in front of Zai Zi.

"Look clearly, don't point at the wrong one," the man in the white suit said, smiling at Zai Zi.

Everyone looked at Zai Zi, who was crawling on the table covered in blood.

Zai Zi struggled to widen his eyes, looking at the photos one by one.

His body suddenly shuddered!

"Ah—Ah! It's him! It's him! It's this person!"

"It's this person who made me take him to find Luo Liang! He said he wanted to buy white goods from Luo Liang! It's this person!"

"Don't kill me—I beg you—don't kill me, I did nothing! It's this person... it's all this person! I know nothing! I beg you!"

His finger pointed at one of the photos, his whole body trembling violently.

155. (1/7) Don't wait, brother, there won't be any rime ice.

After night fell.

The surrounding snowfields were covered with a layer of blue, shimmering mist.

The night lights around the viewing platform lit up.

The bonfire ignited.

Hao Ze Yan and Yang Xue sat beside the bonfire.

Ning Chen lay prone at the fence in the distance, watching the red pine forest shrouded in night not far away.

"Brother, we are leaving tomorrow," Hao Ze Yan said toward Ning Chen's direction.

"We won't wait for it; this trip was in vain, there won't be any rime ice," Hao Ze Yan said. "I checked the weather forecast; it will snow here for the next while, so it's completely impossible now."

The formation of rime ice requires a large amount of water vapor.

And if it snows, it will actually become drier.

Unless the weather remains very clear for the next while, and the brief warm moments melt the snow, otherwise it is truly impossible.

Ning Chen turned around and came back.

He sat by the bonfire.

Hao Ze Yan handed him a bottle of beer.

The three of them drank.

"Brother, what are your plans?" Hao Ze Yan looked at Ning Chen, while Yang Xue was teasing the Shabi beside her.

"There will be rime ice," Ning Chen said. "There will be."

Hao Ze Yan nodded. "We have to go back; we have to go back to work."

"You still have to go to work?" Ning Chen looked at him.

Hao Zeyan pouted his lips, then tilted his chin toward Yang Xue. "She's the one who needs it."

Ning Chen nodded.

Hao Zeyan raised his beer bottle. "To our chance encounter—bottoms up!"

The three clinked bottles and took a big swig.

Yang Xue looked at Ning Chen.

"You're pretty strange," Yang Xue said.

Ning Chen set down his bottle and looked at her. "How so?"

"I get the feeling you're hiding something on your mind," Yang Xue said, looking at Ning Chen.

"You sensed it too?" Hao Zeyan said with a laugh, glancing at Yang Xue, then turning to Ning Chen. "We're from Meng Province—we talk pretty directly."

Ning Chen gave a small smile.

"Look—that's the first time I've seen him smile in the past few days," Yang Xue said.

"We went back last night and were talking about you," Hao Zeyan took a sip of beer. "Got the feeling that you, on the surface, look very calm, but there's something we can't see—constantly struggling."

"Struggling?" Ning Chen looked at them.

"Just a feeling—you're struggling with yourself," Yang Xue said.

"Oh." Ning Chen gave no opinion either way.

He suddenly felt that the two in front of him were quite interesting.

In this world, most people only have themselves in their eyes.

Those who truly pay attention to the world around them, who think about others—unless it concerns their own interests—are really very few.

And if such people truly exist,

it means they love the life right before their eyes.

"Is this the night before parting, wanting to open your hearts and make a friend?" Ning Chen looked at them and gave a faint smile as well.

"Aren't we already friends? You ate our tomahawk steak, didn't you!" Yang Xue said in surprise, then raised a hand to pat Shabby lying nearby. "Shabby, you ate some too."

Ning Chen looked at Yang Xue, then at Hao Zeyan.

Then, once again, he raised the beer in his hand.

Hao Zeyan and Yang Xue both laughed and clinked bottles again.

Originally, there had been other travelers on the observation deck.

After ten o'clock, once it passed half past ten, on the observation deck only Ning Chen's campfire remained.

The three of them kept eating barbecue and drinking beer.

Past eleven o'clock.