In the dimly lit meeting room, Lu Wen stood facing the window. His feet were surrounded by cigarette butts scattered across the floor. He looked haggard and sported an unkempt beard. His sunken eyes were filled with rage.
He had just finished dealing with Nancy's funeral.
In the end, he failed to save his beloved.
He forcefully extinguished a cigarette butt and ground it against the windowsill with such force as if it were Lu Zhao.
The door creaked open, and a tall woman walked in.
"Mr. Lu, I've taken care of everything as you instructed," Wen Yu said.
"Oh? How is Lu Zhao doing now?" Lu Wen didn't turn around. His voice was hoarse from smoking too much.
"Lu Zhao... is falling apart. His cognitive abilities have noticeably fallen. In a month at most, he'll be a complete simpleton," Wen Yu said through gritted teeth.
"Hahahahaha." Lu Wen suddenly burst into laughter.
He swiftly moved in front of Wen Yu.