Xing Wuyi carefully put away the metal box. He used eyes that contained grief to look around the entire room. It was only until this moment that he remained unwilling to admit what had happened. Du Zhanpeng, who was qualified to be an ambitious and ruthless person of this generation, had left this world.
He sat on the wooden bed, and Xing Wuyi gently opened the drawer of the desk.
There was a black diary, and it didn't possess any passwords.
He slowly opened the diary. There weren't any emotions that feigned profoundness inside, nor were there any feelings of a youngster. This was a diary that was used to record his own growth and comprehensive quality.
There were analyses of weapons inside. There were insights toward using biochemical beasts. There were analyses of current political situations. At the same time, there were insights in regards to martial arts and cultivation.
