Zhao Gongming Cursed to Death, War Erupts Between the Two Sects

"Now beginning the Sixth Set of Radio Exercises. Stretching exercise, ready, begin! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight; two, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight..."

"Aimin, Aimin, wake up!"

"Mr. Han! Mr. Han!"

"Stop shouting and get Mr. Han to the hospital!"

"Who knows if he broke a bone? We can't move him carelessly. Better call the hospital!"

Han Aimin was jolted awake by the overlapping cries. Opening his eyes, he found himself surrounded by familiar yet unfamiliar faces, each more anxious than the last. Then a searing pain shot through his elbows and knees.

"Aimin's awake. Everyone, make room." A man in his forties breathed a sigh of relief and urgently asked, "Aimin, are you all right?"

Unless he was dreaming, this man should be Zhong Jianyu, his former colleague and big brother. He was a military cadre transferred to 985 Factory after leaving the army. Since he knew nothing about technology and the factory had no shortage of political cadres, he had been assigned as a politics teacher at the Children's Middle School.

Behind Zhong Jianyu stood a young woman in a Floral Plaid Spring and Autumn Shirt. Her surname was Liu, Liu Pingping. She was both a 985 Factory descendant and third sister's classmate from nursery school through middle school. After graduating high school and failing to get into college, she had been assigned to the Children's Middle School as an English teacher. But she was neither a cadre nor a formal employee—she was a "collective worker," paid one grade less than formal employees...

"Aimin, look at my hand!" Not knowing what Han Aimin was thinking, Zhong Jianyu raised a finger and moved it before his eyes.

The sharp pain in his elbows and knees, the familiar faces before him, and the familiar melody