That was also why Lu Zheng had been unwilling to reveal his identity or proactively shoulder responsibility.
How nice things were now—he could do whatever he wanted.
Even if his identity were exposed someday, Lu Zheng would not take the initiative to shoulder some responsibility for improving the people's lives. It was too exhausting, and no one would thank him for it anyway.
Managing society was the government's responsibility, not a deity's. Piling every contradiction onto one person's shoulders was something only a fool would do.
His responsibility was to live well, save lives and heal the wounded now and then, uphold justice when the mood struck him, and humanely erase anyone who dared provoke him.
Take Mian Bei, for example. Lu Zheng did not care how the people there lived. As long as they trafficked powder and harmed his homeland, making him unhappy, he would go there and kill for a while.
Without responsibility, he did not need to fear criticism, nor would his heart turn cold. Only then could he maintain the initiative and keep responsibility from affecting his state of mind.
Fine, to put it bluntly, he was just lazy!
Lu Zheng helped Lin Wan take off her coat and hung it on the rack by the door. Then he ushered her into the living room, poured her a cup of hot water, and handed it to her.
"Thank you!" Lin Wan said, taking a sip and catching her breath.
Then she could not help clenching her fists again.
Lu Zheng patted Lin Wan's shoulder. "You're an old criminal police officer too. You've seen life and death often enough. Why are you so shaken this time?"
"Because that powder dealer dug up his grave and scattered his ashes!" A vicious gleam flashed in Lin Wan's