Siheyuan: At the beginning, I can integrate everything!

In the study, the leader and Lin Zhentian were immersed in the ecstasy of their rejuvenation.

Zhang Huaimin smiled and withdrew, leaving them to slowly digest this timeless shock.

On the other side...

In the dark corners of Beijing where the bustling neon lights of the city cannot reach.

Time, like a cruel butcher's knife, mercilessly etches its most brutal marks on those who have committed heinous crimes.

Winter is coming.

This year's first snowfall was exceptionally heavy.

It is located under an overpass near Wangfujing Street.

The biting wind, carrying snowflakes, lashed at every corner of the bridge arch like a whip.

In a pile of tattered sacks and rotten cotton wool that reeked of a foul odor.

A thin, hunched figure, resembling a large shrimp, was trembling violently.

That was Xu Damao.

It's been more than ten years.

Ever since Zhang Huaimin's loudspeaker and mantra completely ruined his reputation.

For over a decade, he shoveled manure from the dirtiest and smelliest dry toilet at the Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill.

Every day was accompanied by the stench and the jeers of his fellow workers.

His pride in his cunning and scheming was completely worn away by endless physical labor and mental torment.

At last.

This is due to the constant inhalation of foul air, coupled with long-term malnutrition and overwork.

Xu Damao contracted severe tuberculosis.

The factory considered him a source of infectious diseases and wouldn't even let him do the toilet cleaning job anymore.

They kicked him out of the factory and left him to fend for himself.

"Cough cough... cough cough cough!"

A violent coughing fit echoed through the underpass.

Xu Damao clutched his chest, panting heavily like a broken bellows.

His gaunt cheeks were sunken, and his hair was gray and sparse, with ice crystals clinging to it.

That tattered, dark outfit offered no protection against the howling wind.

He is old.

He was not even fifty years old, but he looked like a seventy or eighty-year-old dying man.

"It's cold...so cold..."

Xu Damao huddled in the tattered sack, his teeth chattering.

His cloudy, despairing eyes stared blankly out of the bridge arch.

Across the street.

It is the newly built global headquarters building of Future Technology Group.

It was a towering skyscraper that reached into the clouds.

The glass curtain wall shimmered with a technologically advanced, ethereal blue light in the night.

On the exterior wall of the building.

Hanging there was a full-color LED display screen that was the largest and clearest in Asia at the time.

At this moment, a groundbreaking news story that has shocked the world is being displayed on the screen.

"Warmest congratulations to Mr. Zhang Huaimin, Chairman of Future Technology Group!"

"Awarded the United Nations' highest medal for science and peace!"

on the screen.

On that magnificent, golden podium at the United Nations General Assembly.

Zhang Huaimin, dressed in a sharp, handmade suit, is smiling as he accepts the trophy from the UN Secretary-General.

The lights are dazzling, and everyone is watching!

That is the pinnacle of power and glory in the world!

But what Xu Damao found most irritating was...

It's Zhang Huaimin's face!

More than a decade has passed.

Time seemed to have stood still for Zhang Huaimin.

He still looks like that handsome, godlike eighteen or nineteen-year-old boy!

Not a single wrinkle, not a trace of age.

Instead, it exudes a sacredness and majesty that makes people dare not look directly at it.

"Zhang...Zhang Huaimin..."

Xu Damao stared intently at the screen, his throat emitting a hissing sound like a dying beast.

He slowly lowered his head, looking at his hands, which were covered in chilblains and as dry as chicken claws.

Then look at your own broken body, reeking of urine, waiting to die in the cold wind.

Extreme contrast!

Like a bolt from the blue, it shattered Xu Damao's last numb nerves!

Hey.

A frenzied, devastating envy and regret.

It was like ten thousand venomous snakes instantly gnawing at his heart!

If only he hadn't provoked that five-year-old child back then.

If he hadn't gone crazy on the radio station.

Now, at least he's a projectionist at the steel mill, living in a large brick house.

You might even get a piece of the pie from this future tech billionaire!

But now?

He sits high in the clouds, a technological deity worshipped worldwide, and his appearance remains ageless.

And he became a beggar, worse than a stray dog, destined to freeze to death in this stinking ditch!

"ah--!"

Xu Damao suddenly let out an extremely shrill and desperate scream.

This extreme emotional surge instantly overwhelmed his already battered body.

"puff!"

He suddenly tilted his head back, and a mouthful of black blood mixed with pieces of internal organs gushed out of his mouth.

The sight of blood splattered on the pristine white snow was horrifying.

Xu Damao's eyes bulged out, his eyeballs almost popping out of their sockets.

He stared intently at the radiant young man on the screen, as if reaching out to grab something.

But that withered hand struggled weakly twice in mid-air.

finally.

With a "thud," it crashed heavily onto the cold snow.

Xu Damao's unwilling eyes gradually lost their last glimmer of light.

His body stiffened, and he remained motionless.

He was once a scheming and selfish projectionist in the courtyard house.

Under the bridge in the dead of winter, he met his most tragic and lonely end.

The next morning.

When sanitation workers discovered the frozen body while shoveling snow, no one even knew who he was.

Meanwhile, at the Hongxing Courtyard, dozens of kilometers away.

That courtyard, which once witnessed countless schemes and intrigues.

The atmosphere was equally oppressive, making it hard to breathe.

The door to Yi Zhonghai's house was tightly closed.

There was no stove in the house, and it was as cold as an icebox.

On the kang (heated brick bed).

He was once a senior engineer of the eighth rank and a powerful figure in the courtyard house.

Yi Zhonghai.

He was lying in a tattered quilt, emaciated and panting heavily.

His face was ashen.

His eyes were unfocused, and he was exhaling more than inhaling.