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墨書 Inktalez
The Drone Show is being live-streamed in real-time, allowing not just the city but people from all over the country to watch the event simultaneously on the hottest short video platform.
At this moment, the coffee shop is experiencing its peak sales period in the evening. Many night-shift workers take advantage of this time to grab a cup of coffee to energize themselves for their late-night battles.
Zhou Minshi politely asks, "May I take your order?"
The customer in front of him is engrossed in their phone, taking a long time to finally place an order in a hurry. Meanwhile, those waiting in line behind are whispering and gossiping among themselves.
"The biggest hurdle in life is indeed the water of life! We work ourselves to exhaustion on night shifts, while the rich spend money that I could never earn in a lifetime!"
Although it feels unfair, he can't help but feel envious. Not only does he have to confess his feelings, but it’s also broadcasted nationwide—how can anyone live with that?
He chuckles bitterly; what difference does it make if there’s one more rich person in the world?
During his few hours of part-time work, Zhou Minshi hears the most discussions about that earth-shattering Drone Show.
Taking advantage of a lull, he quietly pulls out his phone to search for it. But there’s no need to search. The top live stream pops up as soon as he opens his homepage.
Zhou Minshi tries to hide his unease, but his pale fingers betray him.
Before he even starts to compete, he feels kicked out due to the vast wealth gap. How many years must someone like him toil just to reach their starting point?
An unprecedented sense of defeat pierces through him like a knife; it feels as if invisible hands are dragging him into a dark abyss from which he cannot escape.
Self-doubt and jealousy form a cage around him, trapping him inside.
If only one day he could stand at the same height as those people.
If only one day, the lofty goddess would descend to the mortal realm—would he have a chance to catch her eye?
Zhou Minshi self-deprecatingly twists his mouth into a smile; it's truly insane.
He realizes he can never become one of the elite and absurdly begins to wish for Zheng Mengni to be just like him.
How could that ever be possible?
The cold smoke slowly rose in the dimly lit room, where not a single ray of light could penetrate. Tan Yan raised his arm to press against his aching eyelids. Beside the sofa lay a mess, shattered into four or five pieces from his earlier outburst.
The taste of smoke slid into his mouth, lingering in his throat. It was bitter and acrid. With a splitting headache, he pushed himself up from the sofa, kicking aside a deformed object that had been wedged at the door.
Suddenly remembering something, Tan Yan turned back, opened the medical kit at his desk, and took out a roll of gauze. He wrapped it haphazardly around the skin that had been sliced open by a blade. He wound it around his wrist in tight circles, almost like a deity, binding it so tightly that it felt numb and swollen before he finally loosened it slightly.
He was almost going mad with envy. Wei Jingxi. Why could you love someone so recklessly, so unabashedly letting the whole world know?
After all, as the only son of the Wanxie Consortium, he had never tasted the bitterness of competition. Whether it was people or things, everything he desired was within easy reach.
After dressing his wound, Tan Yan swallowed a few pills without water. Instead, he crushed them between his teeth until they turned into fine powder, letting the nauseating bitterness spread across his tongue. Yet he seemed unable to taste it; this little bitterness was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.
He closed the medical kit and turned to lean against the edge of the desk. Taking a deep breath, he pressed hard against his throbbing temples. He made a phone call, his voice as cold as ice: "Make the news about Wei Nanxuan's illegitimate child public as soon as possible. It must be the most eye-catching headline for at least half a month."
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