The sky curtain makes you a useless class monitor, yet you act arbitrarily for eternity?

"Will you come pick me up?"

"Bringing you here to die?"

The voice on the other end of the phone was very aggressive.

I'm also very puzzled.

In the distance, tiny cell phone lights are moving toward the border in the darkness.

"Sending them to their deaths..."

Yan Cong chuckled softly.

He stared at the points of light, feeling as if something hard was stuck in his throat.

"yes."

"Everyone is throwing their lives away."

"How could they be so stupid?"

"They are clearly not soldiers."

"They're just ordinary martial artists. Wouldn't it be better if they could live even one more second?"

There was a half-second silence on the other end of the phone.

Then, an impatient curse was heard.

"Tsk, I don't have time to listen to your sentimental musings right now. I'm hanging up now."

Yan Cong bowed his head.

The metal badge was still lying there on the ground.

Face up.

That was something his parents left him, and it was also the choice his parents gave him.

But his choice was...

Yan Cong bent down, picked up the badge, wiped it with his sleeve, and pinned it to his chest.

That's where Mom and Dad used to wear their badges.

"Old Ye."

"I can support the entire supply line of the Dragon Kingdom."

The voice on the other end of the phone suddenly rose in volume.

"What?!"

"Yan Cong, don't lie to me about this!!!"

Yan Cong looked at the badge on his chest, his voice lowering.

"Come pick me up tomorrow."

"No!"

The sound of someone turning and running could be heard from over there.

"I'll come over tonight..."

"..."

Yan Cong's lips twitched.

"What's the rush?"

"I'm dying for my country!"

"People are going to die!"

"Are you in such a hurry for me to be reincarnated?!"

There was a suppressed anger on the other end of the phone.

"This can't be delayed any longer..."

"I told you."

"tomorrow!"

Yan Cong's tone was very firm.

"Also, when you pick me up tomorrow, you have to make a big show of it."

There was a pause over there.

Yan Cong raised his hand and pressed it against the badge on his chest.

"You know that."

My grandmother always hoped that I would make something of myself.

"I don't want her to die without seeing this."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

In the end, only a long sigh remained.

"OK."

"Tomorrow at noon."

"You must come with us."

"Um."

Yan Cong hung up the phone.

As soon as he turned around, he saw the floral shirt and Old Zhong standing in the living room, their arms around each other's shoulders.

Neither of them showed any signs of drunkenness.

The woman in the floral shirt picked up her car keys and waved them at him.

"Let's go."

"Let's go to karaoke."

"Let's see off the true dragon that has broken free from our little quagmire!"

Yan Cong tilted his head back, forcing back the tears welling up in his eyes.

When he looked down again, he was already smiling.

"Walk."

"Whoever collapses first today is a coward."

The streets were deserted.

A Maybach was driving at a leisurely pace.

The man in the floral shirt sat in the driver's seat, his hands moving back and forth on the steering wheel.

"Wuhu!"

"I've finally made something of myself, driving a car worth millions!"

In the passenger seat, Lao Zhong laughed and cursed.

"You're a complete loser!"

"The one who's truly successful is Yan Cong, what's it to you?"

"Pah! How can it not concern me?"

The floral shirt held its neck stiffly.

"If I hadn't asked him to play King of Glory back then..."

Old Zhong's expression changed, and he reached out to cover his mouth.

The woman in the floral shirt flung his hand away.

"Enough!!!"

The laughter in the carriage stopped abruptly.

The man in the floral shirt gripped the steering wheel tightly, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.

"Old Zhong!"

"At this point, are we still going to lie to Lao Yan?"

"squeak--"

The sound of brakes pierced the empty road.

The car veered slightly to one side and came to a steady stop on the side of the road.

back row.

Yan Cong remained silent.

He simply glanced up and looked at them in the rearview mirror.

The man in the floral shirt turned his head, the smile gone from his face.

"Old Yan."

"We have something to tell you."

roadside.

The three men leaned against the car door and each lit a cigarette.

Neither of them spoke first.

The distant sirens wailed incessantly, their sound carried on the night wind, making one's chest feel heavy.

Yan Cong took a drag and flicked the ash from his cigarette.

"Speak."

"What is it?"

The man in the floral shirt opened his mouth.

He had that sentence stuck in his throat several times, but he finally forced it out.

"Old Yan."

"The thing that led to your breakup with Liang Rumeng..."

"We did it!"

Yan Cong stopped holding the cigarette.

The cigarette ash broke off and landed on the shoe.

He glanced down at it, then put the cigarette back to his lips.

"Go on."

Old Zhong took over the conversation, his voice hoarse.

"It was the night you and Liang Rumeng officially became a couple."

"A voice came to my head."

"It said that as long as I persuade you using the script it gave me, I will receive a reward."

Old Zhong stomped his foot down.

"boom--"

A section of the cement on the roadside cracked open.

"That's how I acquired my Grand Martial Master strength."

The man in the floral shirt raised his hand and punched the stainless steel street lamp next to him.

"Squeak—"

The streetlight broke in half and fell to the ground.

"Me too."

The night wind suddenly picked up.

Yan Cong did not curse.

They didn't do anything.

He simply looked up at the starless sky above.

A hint of self-deprecation and sadness appeared on his face.

"In other words..."

"Was my entire relationship with her... essentially manipulated?"

"So much so that the subsequent weapon forging inexplicably failed at the last step, leaving me to eat soy sauce..."

"All of them..."

"Was all of this for the sake of making me make this decision tonight?"

The man in the floral shirt opened his mouth.

Old Zhong also lowered his head.

No one could respond to that.

Yan Cong's eyes reddened.

He raised his hand to wipe his face, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

"They went to such great lengths to set up this scheme to cultivate me."

"Should I say thank you?"

"I am deeply honored?"

"Old Yan..."

The woman in the floral shirt spoke in a trembling voice.

Yan Cong threw the cigarette butt on the ground and stubbed it out with the sole of his shoe.

"Stop shouting."

"I don't want to fight you right now."

"I don't have time to fight you either."

He opened the back door.

"Make a note of the account first."

"I'll settle the score one by one when I come back alive."