Chapter 137: Shared Sorrow through the Ages of Dust

Shen Mochen stared blankly at the girl on the hospital bed, as if she really had died, her warmth no longer there, even the scent of roses that emanated from her body seemed to have dissipated.

He finally understood the meaning of "fragrance faded, jade perished."

So, her last return wasn't a random fit of madness, but a farewell.

"You motherfucker, sleep with me and then run away," Shen Mochen said.

He missed terribly the slums where daylight was never seen, the stench of sewage from unknown sources, the streets strewn with household waste and flowing juice. Walking two hours to and from school each day, facing a bunch of teachers who had no interest in teaching and were only in it for the salary, dealing with those uncontrollable and unrestrained classmates living in the moment...

He longed for that place, for that time when they were all still there.

He was filled with regret.