Fen Shan was dead.
Such a simple sentence pierced with a sense of inevitable sorrow.
The train moved along the tracks, and on this quiet night, aside from the sound of the train, it seemed impossible to hear anything else.
The scenery outside the window had been completely obscured by the night, with interlacing branches casting traces that resembled figures twisted in struggle.
Fen Shan was dead, and Musheng had no idea how to describe her feelings.
Fen Shan was another subordinate from the same organization. Among the many people there, Fen Shan had left the deepest impression on Musheng, not because he was high-profile, but on the contrary, because he was the lowest-profile among them all.
