"If there's anything you haven't done, make it quick. There isn't much time left on Earth."
After Bai Yujun finished speaking, she slowly rose again and continued the unfinished dragon-language secret art. Just as she had said, there truly was not much time left on Earth.
The next time they returned might be a very, very long time from now.
Zhen Bei gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
In this life, there really was not much left for him to do.
Call him poor, and he always had food to eat. Call him not poor, and he was always running himself ragged just to stay alive.
He could neither grow rich nor starve to death. He wore clothes for years, his shoe soles worn smooth. Whenever he passed an upscale restaurant, he would think that once he had money, he would definitely go in for a meal. He never dared step into a branded boutique, and he ate boxed meals he knew might be bad but had no choice except to eat.
Whenever no one was paying attention, he would secretly drink tap water.
He liked playing games at night, because in games, no one knew or cared who he was, whether he was shabby or poor. There was not so much rotten nonsense between players. The worlds in games often felt more comforting than reality.
Whenever he passed a lottery shop, he would go in and buy two tickets, though he knew perfectly well he would never win the jackpot.
In truth, more often than not, he was buying himself a reason to keep living, numbing himself into carrying on with the possibility that the next jackpot might change his life.
He struggled to live because there was still that tiny, pitiful hope, perhaps. Otherwise, what else