Chapter 115 Deserving to Be Single
There was not a sound in the morgue, and the smell of formalin filled every inch of space. Time seemed to stand still, no longer flowing.
Huai Kebing lay on a bier, covered in a white shroud, from head to foot. He couldn't carry the wealth, the status, the vanity, the women, the house or the car that he had. At this point, he no longer owned anything.
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