Rambling incessantly, like a decrepit old woman, the babble never seemed to end.
"Where does all this talk come from?" Lin Hai ridiculed himself as he slowly picked up the wooden plaque, carefully wrapping every part of it with cloth, meticulous and focused as if the plaque mattered more than his life itself.
The Er Guo Tou liquor had already been drunk dry; Lin Hai felt somewhat unsatisfied. Sometimes alcohol is the best friend, allowing you to briefly forget the past, but it is also the deadliest of things. It forces you to relive memories in vivid detail once sober, memories so deeply etched that they cause an involuntary, intense obsession that's hard to escape.
Shaking his head vigorously, Lin Hai left the place with a sense of despondency, taking with him two other items from the small cloth bundle—one being Little Scorpion's butterfly hairpin, and the other, one of his past honors.
