It turned out they had wanted to fly a plane to Shanghai's Great World nightclub. No wonder Zhao Yu and Tong Sanjin had been so persistent—even after the plane crashed, they still couldn't let it go.
Zhao Yu did not cry. His fangs were still protruding. Perhaps he hated himself for being unable to protect Tong Sanjin. This period of drunken escapism had finally come to an end.
Anyone with a soul would eventually want to grow. Zhao Yu was no different. What a rotten mess.
Dust billowed through the air. In the end, all that remained of Tong Sanjin's body was half of his protective armor and a suit that had been torn to shreds.
Liao Zhao had at least been conscientious. He took out a small bottle and collected the dust Tong Sanjin had left behind, putting it inside. Then he gathered up the clothes, folded them neatly, and came over to me. "Day One, look at this..."
"Bury him. We were brothers, after all. Bury him in the bamboo grove. He can watch the bamboo by day and listen to the wind at night. It's a good place." I remembered the bamboo grove that had once belonged to Old Madam Zhang's family. It had been where Zhao Yu was buried before. Burying him there now would be a good choice as well.
"Mm. Let's bury him there. The mountains are green and the waters clear, and we can go pay our respects from time to time. Day One, after what happened this time, let's hide there again. There isn't a safe place left in Dalong County." Liao Zhao glanced at Liao Hong, who was crying his eyes out, and felt deeply miserable.
"That works. I'll allocate some funds to you when the time comes. I'll also be