Wang Ye froze for a moment.
He could not quite understand it. Though he was now in the twilight of his life, surely one cigarette would not be enough to smoke him to death.
"Your internal organs are shattered."
"You can't inhale it."
"Your bodily functions are too poor. There's no way to recover anymore."
As Zhao Hai spoke, he grew increasingly exhausted. He slowly closed his eyes, his breathing sounding like a broken bellows.
Wang Ye sighed softly and gently patted Zhao Hai on the shoulder.
Then he went upstairs.
The seventh stop: Li Xinghe.
By now, Li Xinghe had also lost the vitality he once possessed. Even upon seeing Wang Ye, he merely nodded in silence.
At that moment, he seemed to have truly aged considerably, like an old man in his twilight years.
"I was passing by. Just came to see you."
Wang Ye did not sit down. He simply stood by the door and spoke earnestly.
Li Xinghe smiled.
"What's there to see in a dying old man like me?"
"Go get busy."
Wang Ye nodded lightly and turned to leave.
Li Xinghe suddenly called out to him. After hesitating for a long time, he carefully asked the question he had kept buried in his heart. "Can... can we win?"
"I don't know."
"But..."
"I'll do my best."
Wang Ye shook his head.
Bitterness flashed through Li Xinghe's eyes. He said nothing more, merely staring blankly out the window.
War.
There had never been a winner.
The eighth stop: Zhang Ziliang.
Wang Ye sat down beside Zhang Ziliang and gazed at Shangjing outside the window. As though talking to himself, he kept speaking.
"Old Zhang, I'm really getting more and more jealous of you."
"You acted all tough, then ran off and left us with a