Obviously it was a sunset group, but it exuded a vibrant spirit.

However, all this seemed unrelated to this lifeless young man...

Meng Lang, with dark circles under his eyes, moved his arms mechanically along familiar streets with vacant eyes.

And this slightly noisy peace and daily routine, in Meng Lang's current eyes, seemed like a dreamlike illusion, like foam that would shatter at a touch.

For these ordinary people, being unable to foresee the future might be a good thing.

At a certain moment, he just wanted to escape desperately, escape from that study filled with all kinds of "tragedies," to a distant place unknown to anyone.

The sun was shining brightly outside, yet his heart was filled with gloom...

Why think about struggling all the time?

Those who completely resign and reconcile with themselves, aren't they also happy?

Should he give up? But his heart was unwilling.

Clearly, having worked hard until now, the sacrificed brothers, even their bodies could form several "正" characters...

But continue to fight?

Come on, Earth has already cracked, there's not even air in the universe, who do you expect him to outwit?

With "no one left alive," what meaning does effort have?

No wonder the brothers from the last episode didn't even want to write about it, such a "truth" is too despairing...

To lie flat or to struggle, both kinds of lives are joyful.

Only those who waver between these two choices are the saddest and most painful, aren't they?

Just as negative emotions were overwhelming, a shouting suddenly came to his ears.

"Rice rolls, selling authentic Guangzhou rice rolls, delicious and cheap!"

"Hmm?" The voice sounded somewhat familiar, and he couldn't help but turn his head to glance at the snack stall beside him.

That one glance left him stunned.

Indeed, just as the book described, he encountered an "acquaintance" here today.

In a common mobile cart was Wang Xianfu, whom he had met a few times, calling out while sweating profusely with a spatula on the grill.

Pouring thin rice batter on the steaming tray, a thin sheet of rice noodle skin steamed out amidst a rising smoke.

Brushing on a layer of sauce, pouring various ingredients, skillfully folding the rice noodle roll...

The former successful small entrepreneur, always with an Hermes handbag, was now wearing an apron, working hard among the street vendors.

This... what kind of situation is this?

Even with his mentality somewhat collapsed by this future scene, Meng Lang couldn't help but be shocked inside.

A small business owner with luxurious cars, switching to selling Guangzhou rice rolls at a snack stall?

Isn't this cross-over a bit abrupt?

On the other side, Wang Xianfu soon noticed the dazed young man in front of the stall.

At the moment he saw Meng Lang, an unnatural and flustered look flashed across his face.

Being seen like this by an acquaintance, much less the parent of his son's classmate, made him somewhat embarrassed.

"Brother Wang, what's this..." Meng Lang's expression was peculiar.

"Cough! It's Brother Meng, out for a morning exercise so early, come, if you don't mind, sit down for breakfast, my treat."

Wang Xianfu looked awkward, yet swiftly tidied up the small table beside him, his plump face quickly filling again with a smile.

Although the curvature of his lips held a trace of bitterness.

"Uh... okay, no need for a treat, give me a shrimp rice roll and a cup of soy milk."

"Sure! Coming right up!"

Just in time for breakfast, Meng Lang sat down, watching the busy Wang Xianfu with a peculiar expression.

The reason he continued to run in the morning despite not being in a good mood was merely curiosity about who the "acquaintance" specifically mentioned in the book was.

Judging by the context, the other person also seemed to be a failure specialist.

Seeing it firsthand today, this manner of failure was indeed somewhat peculiar...

Hmm! People are naturally comparative creatures, upon seeing someone else's bad situation, Meng Lang's mood inexplicably improved a little.

Within two minutes, a translucent, shiny, appetizing rice roll was brought over.

In addition to the soy milk, a small plate of crisp radish was also served.

"Brother Wang, looking at your movements, you don't seem like a beginner?" Meng Lang asked curiously.

There weren't many customers at the stall, and Wang Xianfu wiped his hands on the apron.

"Haha! Brother Wang didn't come from a wealthy family, back when I ventured south, I did all sorts of hard and dirty work.

Worked in factories tightening screws, set up stalls on the street, this skill was honed during those times.

Fortunately, I haven't gotten rusty, I can still make a living today."

A touch of self-mockery appeared on Wang Xianfu's face.

"Sigh! Don't laugh at me, my brother, there's been some business problems recently, life... has been a bit tight, so I'm temporarily back to my old trade...

Blame it on my bad luck..."

Listening to his account, Meng Lang came to understand Wang Xianfu's recent plight.

To be frank, it wasn't unusual; it was a story familiar to many small subcontractors.

Real estate developers owe construction companies, construction companies owe outsourced teams, big contractors owe small contractors, and small contractors owe migrant workers...

The real estate bosses turn into debtors, yet the banks treat them with the utmost respect, given that they're not involved cleanly themselves.

Construction companies have strong backgrounds, and big contractors dare not speak out.

Thus, the worst off are these small contractors, unable to get money from above, with a group of workers knocking at their doors at midnight for debt.

Selling houses and cars couldn't fill the gap, so with no choice, performing became a means of livelihood.

Wang Xianfu was somewhat a self-made working man, venturing out young, and after saving some money, he started a small company becoming a contractor.

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