Pushing open the door of the funeral shop, Li Yidao quietly placed the briefcase on the counter.
Inside was one million, a thank-you fee from Wei Wenqiang.
Li Yidao had initially hesitated to accept it, but Wei Wenqiang called the old man on the spot, resulting in him taking the money back.
Reclining on the familiar recliner, reflecting on Qian Qiangyu's final decision, Li Yidao fell into silence.
Right or wrong, who could guarantee that they wouldn't make mistakes?
Regardless of whether one's actions were right or wrong, with this final decision, everything became unimportant.
With his passing, all things would scatter with the wind.
...
In contemplation, at some point, Li Yidao drifted into a light sleep.
"Ring, ring, ding, ding..."
The sudden ringtone stirred Li Yidao, prompting him to open his eyes. He picked up his phone and saw an unknown number, furrowing his brow.
Answering the call, he said, "Hello?"