Global Film Emperor

Chapter 402 "Afterlife" (Part 1)
"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to The Taylor Swift Show, the most exciting, sensational, raunchy, yet star-studded television program in the UK, airing every Saturday at 8 pm!"

As the lights came on at the recording studio, the DJ gently turned on the vinyl record, and the men and women in the audience stood up, clapping and cheering to welcome the host who walked from behind the screen to the front of the stage and danced the cha-cha to the music.

"How are you doing? How are you doing? Keep the applause going until I have to wash my underwear right after I leave the stage! Wow! I'm here, I'm here~ You can stop now, I know you guys have always been the best, phew, thank you for the applause, please sit down."

Wearing a sharp dark blue suit, Taylor walked around the desk, leaned back lazily in the leather executive chair, crossed his legs, and twirled a pen between his fingers until he gave a feigned shudder before turning his palms down to suppress the applause from the audience.

“I believe no one is unaware of a news article published in the Washington Post two weeks ago, which is why everyone is so enthusiastic today, but I still want to retell what happened two weeks ago to the very few ‘primitive people’ in front of the television.”

"Friends, Jesus has arrived! No, perhaps he's even more amazing than Jesus. I'm not kidding. He's accomplished something absolutely incredible, jaw-dropping scientific research. He's unlocked the door to life, marking a new cycle. Ladies and gentlemen! Let's welcome him with the warmest applause and cheers, the God of the 21st century! Mr. Zambi Oderes Hea!"

This was the loudest applause in the nearly eight years since "The Taylor Swift Show" started airing. The women's extremely loud screams even caused some elderly viewers to experience tinnitus and heart discomfort. But no one cared whether their behavior was proper or what impact it might have on their health. Really, no one cared.

The blond man slowly walked from backstage to the front of the stage. In his thirties, his ordinary appearance was made dazzling by his talent in the eyes of the crowd. His gold-rimmed glasses made him look refined and cultured. At a glance, he appeared to be a man of great learning and profound knowledge.

"God, I remember Mr. Hea is already sixty-three years old!"

"Rejuvenation! Real rejuvenation!"

"He looks only thirty! I believe him now!"

Mr. Haya showed no surprise at the audience's incredulous gasps; the shock would surely remain with him as he made headlines in major newspapers and media outlets.

"Sir, do you need my mouth? Or my butt? Or something else? Please let me serve you, please!"

As one of the BBC's most popular, yet unsuitable for children, Taylor's hosting style remains as vulgar as ever, even though it's not his usual way of interacting with people in real life.

Despite his foul language and adult jokes, people could still feel his genuine respect for Heya through his words.

It's worth noting that Taylor's lewd jokes were always directed at the guests who had stood on this stage, whether they were handsome men and beautiful women, big stars, or middle-aged, balding, and pot-bellied politicians. She never directed her anger at herself.

He eagerly pulled out a chair for Heya, meticulously wiping the leather seat with a handkerchief he had never taken out of his chest. Finally, like a waiter eagerly awaiting a tip, he waved for Heya to sit down.

Hea did not seem uncomfortable with the gender-neutral lewd jokes. Although the show was unscripted, Taylor had already discussed the precautions with him before going on stage, and it was clear that lewd jokes were not among his taboos.

"Guys! This is God! This! This is God! Let's give him the most fucking applause! Mr. Hea, on behalf of the production team, I sincerely thank you for coming."

The third cheer within a minute did not make the audience feel uncomfortable at all; the enthusiasm was enough to lift the roof off the studio, and even the air-conditioned studio felt a bit hot.

As soon as they were seated and the show officially began, Taylor couldn't wait to ask a question. He didn't even realize that his excited body was leaning forward.

"Sir, if my information is correct, you are now sixty-three years old and a grandfather, yet you look exactly the same as in the photos from thirty years ago. It's truly incredible."

"Yes, I've reversed my aging process. Just four weeks ago, my physical condition returned to the level of someone around thirty years old. If I need, I can be even younger."

Mr. Haya remained remarkably calm, took a sip of water, looked at Taylor, and nodded slightly.

"How did they do that? This... is incredible, God."

"Science, otherwise how could it be done? Ever since my grandmother passed away, I have been afraid of death. Therefore, I devoted myself to the life sciences and carried out nearly forty years of scientific research. Finally, with the expenditure of a lot of funds and the joint efforts of thousands of experts, we achieved a major breakthrough two years ago. After two years of clinical trials, it was finally presented to everyone."

Could you elaborate?

"Initially, we started with the Turritopsis dohrnii jellyfish to test the maximum number of times it can transform from a mature jellyfish into a larva. However, the results were not ideal. Fortunately, we successfully extracted the relative gene responsible for 'immortality' from its DNA. After tens of thousands of experiments on mice, we successfully matched the gene and kept the mouse's gene chain stable and unbroken. Unfortunately, during the reincarnation, the mouse's organs did not revert to their juvenile state but instead regrowed. During this period, the mice still faced organ failure and died, leading to the failure of the experiment."

“We tried organ transplantation, but transplanted organs will eventually fail. Unless you keep getting organ transplants, you can’t solve the problem fundamentally. So we looked into resilient creatures like earthworms, centipedes, and tardigrades. We eventually extracted some genes and special base components from the tardigrade’s body and replaced them with the genes of the Turritopsis dohrnii jellyfish to maintain the symmetry and balance of the gene chain.”

"At the same time, we discovered that the special bases derived from tardigrades reacted with guanine and thymine in mice, giving rise to two new bases, which we call 'tardigrade thymine' and 'tardigrade guanine'."

"These two bases, through covalent bonds, affect deoxyribose and ribose, which in turn greatly influence nucleotides and even alter the sequence of DNA and RNA. However, all of this is for the better. It greatly enhances cell activity, increases the number of cell divisions, extends lifespan, and makes the gene chain very stable and less prone to breakage, thus greatly improving disease resistance and significantly preventing the occurrence of terminal diseases. At the same time, tardigrade thymine still retains certain characteristics of thymine, with an additional methyl group at the 5-position compared to uracil, maintaining the accuracy of heritability. Therefore, the next generation of humans who have altered their genes will have a good inheritance of the gene chain."

On stage, Mr. Hea was speaking eloquently, but he didn't go into too many important details. He simply repeated the experimental process published in the newspaper to the audience. In contrast, the audience still looked very confused.

Most ordinary people are not interested in genetics, and these viewers are not interested in the experimental process that will put them into a deep sleep. Heya was not surprised at all by this.

"Wow... So, you've broken the laws of life, allowing humanity to reach the realm of immortality?"

"No, life is ultimately finite. Even though we don't have an accurate count of how many times the immortal jellyfish transforms, I believe that no animal can escape death. We are just trying to extend life as much as possible, to the point that humans can face death without regret. That's enough. You know, living too long isn't necessarily a good thing."

"So, based on your predictions, Mr. Heya, how long can humans live with the current level of technology?"

"In about 150 to 200 years, and with the technology we have, we can treat the vast majority of diseases. As the technology matures further in the future, life can be extended even further."

For the remainder of the filming, the entire shoot took place in a question-and-answer format. Taylor asked all the questions the audience wanted answered, such as whether there were any side effects and how likely it was to cause a medical accident. Mr. Haya answered each of these questions. Finally, at the end of the shoot, Taylor gave the remaining two minutes to Haya to announce a decision that was of paramount importance to the course of human history.

Heya stood up, walked to the front of the stage, and slowly began to speak in front of countless eyes.

“I know how precious life is. In the more than ten years since my grandmother passed away, all my elders have left me one by one. I often dream of them, but when I wake up, the room is silent. This is the most painful separation for people, but in the end we will all silently taste this regret. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to lose other relatives and close friends who are important to my life. I believe you feel the same way.”

"Therefore, I have decided... to sell all the experimental plans and technologies at extremely low prices to all countries interested in this research. I will not do business at a loss, nor will I profit from it. I only hope that a hundred years from now, I can still see all of you here today, amidst laughter and joy, under a clear blue sky, with white doves flying, to take off our hats and greet each other."

"Everyone, let's become old friends!"

"My God! Mr. Hea! Respected Mr. Hea!!!"

This was a riot by the audience, driven by excitement. People left their seats and the audience area, crowding in front of the stage, trying to get as close as possible to "God," even if all they could do was gratefully straighten his trousers or kiss his shoes...

"I really saw a person's back view filled with radiance, which even stung my eyes. I shed tears, but at that moment I was happy."

Taylor wanted to add that line to his autobiography, but it wasn't a lie to embellish the legend of Hea; he really shed tears, genuine tears of happiness.

The camera focused on Heya's smile, with the crowd bowing down to him. Perhaps in the future, an artist will create a masterpiece in his honor, but for now, it is just stored on a small memory card.

……

After that, Heya fulfilled his promise, sold the results to various countries, and signed a plan to democratize genetic modification, so that ordinary people could also enjoy longevity, and the lifespan of everyone was greatly extended.

But Hea didn't expect that his good deed would not be rewarded with a beautiful and worthwhile world.

Rather, it was the beginning of a living hell...

……

“My name is Wang Ziqing, but nobody calls me by that name. Everyone is used to calling me Parker. I was born thirteen years after gene enhancement became widespread. I am a second-generation gene-modified human. My parents are British Chinese. We come from an ordinary family. There’s not much to say about us. If I really have to say something special, I can only mention that I was a premature baby. Sometimes when I look at the photos of myself when I was just born, seeing myself weighing only 2.7 pounds in the photos, and then looking at the ordinary adult male in the mirror, I always have some absurd thoughts.”

"The modified genes are so powerful it's unbelievable. If only they had died at birth."

(Parker's narration.)
……

"Mr. Parker, your test results are in. Congratulations on your recovery. You can now be discharged."

"Okay, trouble."

The nurse in the white coat was quite robust, and her face looked somewhat fierce due to her thick, fleshy features. However, she was surprisingly kind and warm towards the patients. She smiled and nodded to Parker, handed him the medical records, and then asked the other patients in the ward if they were feeling unwell. After receiving a negative answer, she pushed the medical cart away.

After accepting the congratulations from his roommate, he got up and, under the watchful eyes of the other patients, quietly packed his luggage. Finally, he cut off his hospital wristband, gently pushed open the door, and walked out of the ward.

With the increase in human lifespan, the hospital is no longer overcrowded. The walk to the lobby is quiet, and the sound of leather shoes echoing on the floor tiles is heard. The nurses who are handling the paperwork have been waiting for a long time. When they see that the person has finally come up to them, they show a warm and enthusiastic smile and take the series of certificates that Parker handed over with both hands.

"Sir, bank card or credit card?"

"credit card."

The nurse, having received the answer, smiled even more broadly, quickly processed Parker's paperwork, calculated the expenses for Parker's seven-day hospital stay, and finally placed the payment slip on the table for Parker to sign.

"Please take a look, sir. The hospital bed fee, surgery fee, and physical examination fee will be fully reimbursed by insurance. This fee will be handled by the hospital and your insurance company. The medication fee will be reimbursed at 70%. You will still need to pay £240,000 plus 12% interest. You have chosen a ten-year installment loan, so you will need to pay £2240 to the designated account every month. If you have no objections, please sign here."

After calculating and confirming that the amount was correct, Parker hesitated for a moment, but finally signed the document, put the receipt away, and left the hospital after the nurse said goodbye.

This is a bizarre and fantastical world...

Leaving the hospital was like falling into a frying pan. From silence to noise, it seemed to take less than a second. Parker reacted to the outside world, getting splattered and smelling of oil. He was destined to join the crowd because he was part of the noise.

Countless pedestrians hurried past him, even children, reading as they walked. Even if strangers bumped into each other, neither would utter a word and they would simply lower their heads and head towards their destinations.

Looking up, tall buildings block out the sky, obscuring even a glimpse of its azure blue. Neon lights remain constantly lit, illuminating the shadows cast by the buildings, as if to say that the sun is not just one, but can be many.

The vehicle waited at the red light. After it turned green, the car behind it honked. A second later, a chain reaction started, like a long dragon roaring and rushing across the road.

It's strange that even though the end of life has been extended considerably, people don't have time to stop. Instead, they feel more pressured, as if they're being chased by something.

Parker stood in the crowd for a while, and finally, he took his first step, then his second step, walking faster and faster until he caught up with the crowd and disappeared into the vast sea of ​​people.

……

“Mr. Heya gave us life, but politicians are exploiting our flesh and blood.”

"Life is not a symbol; we live not to serve as fuel for social development."

"We are not tools, we are human beings."

A large group of people gathered by the roadside, like a weak wild beast struggling against a raging torrent, desperately shouting out their longing for a dream that would never come true under the gaze of the crowd.

Even though they were numerous and very vulnerable, pedestrians hurried by, ignoring their presence. Only the patrolling police sat on their motorcycles, grinning with disdain and mockery.

They are marching, demonstrating, and protesting the newly proposed retirement plan at age 155. However, everyone understands that at eight o'clock tomorrow morning, all of them will be at their desks or office desks, working and studying to ensure the basic needs of their families or to avoid causing trouble for their parents.

If their resilience could truly be listened to by some people, then the retirement age wouldn't have been increased from 65 to 90 years old back then.

What they long for is nothing more than the unrealistic dream of retiring peacefully as soon as possible. Dreaming is allowed, so so is protesting.

……

"We are destined to become fuel, like a match, ignited by phosphorescence, burning fully until the fuel is exhausted and we turn to ashes. This is our fate, a fate that no one can escape."

"Faced with fate, we can only accept it and strive to make the city more magnificent, the technology more advanced, and the economy more prosperous. This is the duty of all citizens living in this city, and no one can refute it."

"What we care about is not how much we contribute to this city, how much we give, or how much we get in return. What we really want is for some people to ask us that question."

"Are you willing to become fuel?"

(Parker's narration.)
……

“Mr. Heya gave us life, but politicians are exploiting our flesh and blood.”

"Life is not a symbol; we live not to serve as fuel for social development."

"We are not tools, we are human beings!"

They were marching, demonstrating, protesting the newly proposed 120-year-old retirement plan. Parker was among them, holding up a sign, his face flushed, shouting hoarsely. Facing the indifference of passersby and the blatant mockery of those maintaining order, his anger grew increasingly irrational. Until a water cannon extinguished his rage, drenching him from head to toe, chilling him to the bone, filling his ears with screams and cries of pain, and the crowd scattered.

He then realized that the rubber rollers would hurt so intensely that he screamed, cried out in pain, and ran away. He even threw the bulletin board he had worked on all night on the ground, where it was covered with muddy footprints.

……

He returned home bruised and soaking wet. Staring at the dim yellow light shining from the doorway, he hesitated, pacing back and forth until the door was pushed open.

"Ziqing, what are you doing standing at the door? Why aren't you coming in?"

"Good mother."

A simple response from her mother gradually dissipated the initial anxiety. Perhaps a mother's ordinary greeting is the best medicine to soothe inner unease.

He entered the house. If the dim lighting at the doorway had prevented his mother from noticing the wounds on his face, now that the house was as bright as day, his miserable appearance was fully revealed to his parents.

But the parents' reaction was very normal, and they even spoke less than usual. It was already eight o'clock in the evening, and the parents had already eaten dinner. There was a bowl of ginger soup on the table with a faint white steam rising from it, and the broccoli next to the steak was still as green and chewy as ever.

After he finished eating and drinking, his mother cleaned up the dishes and went back to the room with his father to rest, leaving him alone. He secretly picked up the iodine that was placed in a very conspicuous position, took off his shirt, and grimaced as he evenly applied it to the wound. Then he went back to bed and spent a night in pain that would wake him up every time he turned over.

……

Sometimes, scars are not medals of the victor, nor proof of defeat; they simply appear ordinary, appear ordinary in people's eyes, heal in an ordinary way, and eventually disappear in an ordinary way.

The teachers and most students didn't see any surprise, nor did they have any opinions or thoughts about it. Only in a small group of people, a small group of people who were also scarred, would a ripple be stirred and a tiny splash be made.

"They were really ruthless. They beat me up badly, to the point that I could hardly breathe. For a moment, I even thought it would be best if they just knocked me out."

"Who can argue with that? I felt like I had several broken ribs back then, and now even breathing hurts."

"So you're not going next time?"

"Of course... I'll go!"

During their free time, this small group of reckless rascals were still eager to make their next move, hoping to change something, without ever considering the consequences if they were caught.

“I was really disfigured by the beating; look at the wound around my eyes.”

Among the scoundrels, the only girl looked in the mirror and saw that her eyes were bruised and swollen. She sadly slammed the mirror face down on the table, propped her chin up with her hands, and listened excitedly to the scoundrels' next plan. It turned out that she was also the kind of person who didn't learn her lesson easily.

"I have some safflower oil here, Lisa, do you need it?"

"Oh my god, Parker, you're so kind! I thought you weren't going to bring any more. You can't buy this anywhere."

"Then you can take it. I have more at home. This bottle is yours."

Parker's words carried a hint of flattery, and despite the teasing from the other rascals, Lisa did not refuse his kindness but accepted it readily.

Everyone in the school knew they had feelings for each other, but they weren't dating yet, let alone kissing or sleeping together. However, everyone thought it was coming soon, that they'd hit home base soon.

This is a joy that adults will never experience again, a joy that comes from the heart when you can help someone. It is something to be cherished and savored. Parker is experiencing it, but ultimately, he will lose it.

……

The biggest difference between what adults and children like is that children like a particular aspect of an object, while adults always consider the whole object before deciding whether to like it.

A child's liking can shift or even be completely worn away as their understanding of the other person expands. This is not stable. On the other hand, an adult's liking can become more tolerant because of prior understanding.

But liking, or rather love, can always break through the surface with a single point. The surface can only cover the surface of love and gradually permeate it, but the point can directly pierce the heart and reach a person's soul.

I was the one who got stabbed.

(Parker's narration.)
……

The march was always accompanied by violence and conflict. The water cannons that were ready to fire were finally fired. The familiar screams and cries of pain reached his ears again. Parker extinguished his cigarette, threw it into the trash can, dodged the splashing water, and started walking again toward home.

"Sir, do you need any workers? I need a job. I can clean drains, do tiling, carpentry, I can do it all, sir."

"Sir, do you need car maintenance? Or even repairs? Whatever the problem is, I can fix it for you. My prices are very reasonable, sir."

"Sir, would you like me to paint a picture for you? I paint very well, and the price is very reasonable. I can frame it for you, and it will look beautiful in your home."

Many people gathered around, begging for a job to ensure they could have enough to eat that day. This was a gathering place for the unemployed near his home. They would keep asking people who came and went if they needed cheap labor. They were willing to do any job, regardless of whether they had the relevant qualifications, whether it was legal or not, and they didn't care if the person being asked got annoyed by the questions.

"No, I don't need it."

After receiving a negative answer, they stopped bothering them, showing no sign of disappointment, and returned to the roadside as if nothing had happened, waiting for the next passerby to be bothered by them.

Parker really didn't have any work to give them, and even if he did, he wouldn't hire these people just to save money. If he brought them home, he would risk waking up the next morning to find his house completely emptied.

They always stand at the crossroads, like prostitutes waiting for customers, carrying 1.5 pounds and 1.5 liters of Coke or cheap hot dogs. They stand there all day, earning a little money. After eating their fill, they go to buy lottery tickets and spend all their savings on lottery tickets and scratch-offs, hoping that one day they can turn their lives around and become rich.

Occasionally, newcomers would take over their spots, and some physical altercations would occur. You see, these people who eat junk food and drink carbonated beverages all day long are all incredibly heavy. When they fight, it's like a bear fighting. They look clumsy, but they are actually fierce. Parker didn't want to get into any trouble, so he went back to lie down less than half an hour after leaving the hospital.

A melodious saxophone tune drifted into Parker's ears on the wind, allowing him to avoid the old street performer and prevent himself from stepping on the old man's instrument case and his own cheap CD recording.

Ironically, on one side of the street, a group of people were fighting tooth and nail over protesting the postponement of the retirement age, while on the other side of the street, a group of people wished they could work until they were two hundred years old just to make ends meet.

A mere kilometer's distance gave rise to two completely different ideologies. Capital divides people into different classes, and those living at the very bottom seem to have degenerated into beasts, wandering every corner of the streets, begging or exerting their physical strength, all for a bite to eat and a bed where they can sleep soundly.

The purpose of these people's existence seems to be merely to warn others, to instill fear in them about life at the bottom, to encourage them to strive for self-improvement, and to willingly be used as fuel—being fuel is better than being an animal, no matter what.

"Boom...boom...boom..."

This is the closest bridge to his home, right near his residence. Below it, instead of water, are trains laden with goods.

These are the dwellings of ordinary people. As the ratio of deaths to births has plummeted, the city's outskirts can no longer accommodate detached houses. Instead, high-rise buildings that could collapse and turn people into mud have taken their place.

He stood on the bridge, lost in thought, and reached out to grab a dandelion floating in the air. Perhaps his movement was too large, because the fluffy seeds instantly dodged his hand. So he listened intently to the familiar train whistle, a sound so familiar that it sometimes even woke him from his sleep.

His phone vibrated twice. He picked it up and glanced at it. The insurance company had acted quickly, transferring the initial hospitalization and surgery fees he had paid to his bank card. However, the hospital was even faster, taking away more than two thousand yuan in reimbursement the moment the money arrived.

The train was approaching him, and he could feel the vibrations of the handrail by the bridge. This might have come from the train's roar, or it might have been a cry from the deepest part of his heart.

He stepped forward with his right leg, crossed the handrail by the bridge, and sat on it with his feet dangling in the air. Sometimes he touched the ground with his left foot, sometimes with his right. He closed his eyes until the train passed, then he pulled his right foot back and returned to the side of survival.

It's time to go home...

……

"To be honest, my concept of home used to be very vague. I was never quite sure whether home meant people or that castle in the air in the steel forest."

"If you're referring to family, I can't stand staying in a place that doesn't belong to me for too long. I don't like wandering around and having no fixed abode. I want to embrace life with a fixed place."

"But if it's about houses, then without family, I probably wouldn't be able to withstand the pressure from various loans, taxes, insurance bills, and living expenses, even though these things have been with me since I was a child."

"Later I thought of my mother's words. Perhaps home is not just one thing, but an integrated whole. I need a place to live and a family to rely on."

"To settle down and make a living is perhaps the most important idiom in my life. Even though I don't have the ability or time to go to that country, it doesn't diminish my longing for it at all."

"In short, I don't want to lose my home or my residence, and that's why I'm willing to be the fuel for this."

……

The nineteenth floor, a building with three households per floor, had its hallways piled high with household items, yet this did not hinder escape in the event of a fire. This was the clever trick of the elderly woman living in the middle small apartment. Although the Parker family and the neighbor across the hall had some complaints about this, it was hard for them to hold a grudge against a 180-year-old woman who was still working hard for her children.

He took out his key, opened the door, and suddenly smelled the aroma of food. His wife was busy in the kitchen. Hearing the door open, she turned around, saw Parker return, and smiled.

Lisa eventually became Parker's wife, living up to the expectations of those bastards from high school. One point ultimately pierced the deepest part, leading to the end.

The two got married and had a son. Although their love had largely faded, a bond was formed between them. This kind of affection, called kinship, was more reliable and secure than romantic love.

"Making food so early?"

Jason is currently in high school, which is far from his home. It takes about an hour to get there and back by subway. And as a high school student, he naturally has more free time. Based on his usual routine, he won't get home until at least 7 p.m.

"Mr. Nelson is having a party and just notified me. I don't have much to give as gifts, and I'm a bit short on time, so I can only cook some food and bring it over."

The Nelsons lived across the hall and had been neighbors with the Parker family for over twenty years. However, the elderly couple were much older than Parker and Lisa, both over 160 years old.

Before Parker could speak again, Lisa asked him a question instead.

"How is your health?"

"no problem."

Freshly baked cookies were still on the stove, warm to the touch. I picked one up and put it in my mouth, chewing it heartily and savoring the rich condensed milk flavor.

How much do we need?

Parker suddenly stopped chewing, grabbed a kitchen paper towel, and gently picked up the cookie crumbs from his chest until he was clean. He then threw the paper towel into the trash can before continuing to chew until he had swallowed it completely. Only then did he take the medical bill out of his wallet and hand it to Lisa, who was still staring at the frying pan.

"This...it's okay. We'll be frugal these days. Jason wants to get a new PS5, so try to persuade him to hold off for now."

The high cost of medication and the monthly loan repayments did add to Lisa's burden, but she couldn't show any distress. After all, Parker hadn't wanted to be seriously ill, and complaining to her husband would only cause him more trouble.

"sorry."

“You shouldn’t say that. Listen, Parker, I love you.”

"Thank you, honey. By the way, why did Mr. Nelson suddenly decide to throw a party? His social circle is clearly not very large."

The two kissed, and Parker continued to reach for the cookies; he was indeed very hungry.

Lisa flipped the beef in the pot over, then turned around and answered Parker's question in a low voice.

"Mr. Nelson... is going to pass away."

Parker paused again, carefully recalling Nelson's age and financial situation. He poured himself a glass of water, rinsed his mouth, and looked out the window, a hint of envy in his eyes.

"He has passed away... That's wonderful."

"..."

My pillow has been a bit too high these past few days, which has made my neck uncomfortable and caused a severe headache. I haven't finished writing yet, so I'll post about 10,000 words first. I'll finish the rest in the next few days. My wishes are a little late, but I wish everyone a Happy Chinese New Year, Wuhan stay strong, good health, and all your wishes come true in the new year, along with family reunions.

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(End of this chapter)