The third-grade books are unaffordable, but the price range for second-grade books varies greatly, from 10,000 to 90,000.
Among them, "Crane Claw Skill" is prominently listed, priced at 47,000.
The rest of the manuals instantly lose their relevance for comparison. Feng Mu turns around and leaves the bookstore; his shopping philosophy in both lifetis has always been plain and simple: the more expensive, the better.
He only has 12,400 in his wallet, and anything he can afford won’t compare to "Crane Claw Skill."
As he leaves the bookstore, a perfud saleswoman gives him a faint glance, using a dry cloth to wipe the fingerprints off the hardcover of the manuals.
Books are expensive and should not be tarnished by the poor, even if the book is just a sample!
The saleswoman, holding this lofty view, complains to the boss while wiping, "The governnt of Zone 9 should enact laws to prevent the poor from stepping into bookstores."
The potbellied boss agrees wholeheartedly with the saleswoman’s opinion and seriously instructs, "Wipe it clean, and be careful not to leave your fingerprints on it."
The saleswoman genuinely thinks the boss is a bit foolish and boasts, "Don’t worry, boss, I’m wearing gloves."
Upon leaving the bookstore, Feng Mu is unaware of being scorned. He mounts his bike and heads to the incineration plant.
On the road, the presence of gang mbers has noticeably increased. They not only stop passing students for questioning but also interrogate drunks by the roadside and breakfast stalls on the street.
Their expressions stern and their tone vicious, they are looking for a limping person wearing a mask.
Feng Mu is also stopped. He rests one foot on the bike pedal and one foot on the ground, calmly saying, "I haven’t seen any la person. I just left ho and am heading to work."
The gang mber stares at Feng Mu for two seconds, then suddenly takes out a roster for a glance and asks, "Your na is Feng Mu, a student from academy 47, right?"
Feng Mu gives a bitter smile, "I used to be. Now I’ve dropped out and am just an incinerator worker."
"On the afternoon of March 15th, where did you go after school?" The gang mber follows the scripted interrogation techniques, his eyes sharp, closely observing Feng Mu’s expression.
A look of bewildernt crosses Feng Mu’s face. Thanks to the interrogation scenes from criminal investigation dramas of his past life, he refrains from blurting out a rehearsed answer.
He reflects for a mont, shaking his head, "I can’t rember. I presumably went ho."
The gang mber’s intensely scrutinizing gaze visibly relaxes slightly. According to Bin’s teachings, stating ’I don’t rember’ is normal. Conversely, those who imdiately give a detailed account of their actions tend to be lying.
A normal person may not even recall what they ate for dinner the previous night, let alone what they did on an afternoon ten days ago.
"On the 15th of March, many of your classmates dropped out. You didn’t. You dropped out on the 18th. Think carefully about what you did after school that day. Why didn’t you leave as well and instead delayed until the 18th?" The gang mber, reading from the notes, reminds him.
Feng Mu then realizes, "Oh, that day, because of all the dropout stuff, I was feeling depressed. I left school early, wandered around outside, and once it got dark, went ho to sleep."
The gang mber asks, "Any witnesses?"
Feng Mu shakes his head, "I don’t know. Maybe soone saw on the way, but I didn’t pay much attention. At night, where else could I be besides sleeping at ho?"
Feng Mu’s response is non-committal, ending with a counterquestion, redirecting the inquiry. His slightly confused yet open deanor makes him appear anything but a cunning culprit.
The gang mber almost believes him but still presses, "Why didn’t you drop out together back then?"
Feng Mu sighs, "I still had so illusions, plus my old man is the Chief Constable at the Patrol Office, strict by nature. For sothing as serious as dropping out, I needed his nod at ho first."
Hearing the words ’Patrol Office,’ the gang mber visibly shows disgust, irritably waving Feng Mu away.
Feng Mu retracts his grounded foot, pedaling his bike swiftly, with one foot heavy and the other light...
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