Oh~
It’s my foolish Imoto, in that case, it’s nothing!
Feng Mu’s feelings for Imoto were like brocade interwoven with intricate patterns, complex and dense.
Initially, Feng Mu’s heart was heavily fortified, making his feelings for Imoto appear closed and indifferent.
However, as ti passed, Imoto’s ever-deepening efforts quietly changed Feng Mu’s mindset, and he began to develop a strong sense of care for Imoto.
One silently gave without counting the cost; the other quietly watched, subtly offering guidance and support.
To so extent, their story beca the most touching sibling tale of the year, warming the heart of every inford person.
The only regret is that this touching tale is sowhat restricted, making it impossible to share it for free with outsiders.
Oh, you ask how much it costs to hear this story, not much, just a warm supper!
Feng Mu closed the system subtitles, frowning slightly:
"My growth up to today owes much to Imoto’s contributions, but why does she just focus on those closest to her?"
Feng Mu couldn’t figure out what illness Imoto had, her dietary preferences becoming increasingly monotonous.
Feng Mu thought this was not good, this kind of diet was very unhealthy.
Because if she continued eating like this, soon, Imoto would have nothing left to eat but her own family.
If Imoto only invited father to dinner it would be one thing, but he’s afraid she’d go after the poor mother, or even couldn’t resist inviting her good brother for a al.
Feng Mu still harbors a little affection for his biological mother deep in his heart. He just can’t help it; he’s a kind-hearted person. If soone is a little bad to him, he might forget it imdiately, but if soone is a little good to him, he might rember it for a lifeti.
Feng Mu pondered for a long ti, silently offering the sincerest prayers for Feng Yuhuai:
"My foolish Imoto, I hope you won’t do anything foolish that you’ll regret. Good brother has invested a lot of effort in you, so please don’t rush to bring a al too soon."
The Master of Destiny was praying for Imoto, which shows the greatness of Feng Mu’s love for Imoto.
Feng Mu could only pray, unable to do much more, since, after all, dear father taught her one thing from a young age:
Whatever she wants, she will always get it in the end.
The iron faith that father built for Imoto is probably not sothing a brother can correct with a few secretive guidance attempts.
Feng Mu took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, the breath seed to carry deep helplessness and heavy emotion, lingering in the room for a long ti:
"System, I think your perspective is too narrow. True family ties should not be confined by innate bloodlines. Think carefully, is there any truth in what I’m saying?"
Feng Mu had no choice but to prepare for the worst; if possible, he wanted to try finding the next Imoto to replace Feng Yuhuai.
Feng Mu mused inwardly: "If I have another Imoto, then I might not feel tornt because I have to ’consu’ my sister."
This reasoning is like those boyfriends who have two girlfriends at the sa ti; they easily won’t feel too sad over a breakup.
Feng Mu despises jerks, but as a villain in harsh living conditions, he feels he should learn or absorb so survival techniques from them.
......
Cold boots clattered against the dry corridor, creating a dull echo. After sensor recognition, the hydraulic door slid open to reveal the passage.
Qian Huan walked steadily into the newly cleaned Death Row, his face void of any emotion, his gaze coldly sweeping over the surroundings.
The rusty dungeons, thoroughly cleaned, showed no traces of yesterday’s blood and gri.
The floor, polished to a mirror-like finish, reflected Qian Huan’s stern and grim visage under the overhead cold light.
Yet, a lingering tallic sll still perated the air, causing Qian Huan to frown slightly, and he instructed casually:
"Spray more freshener into the air to suppress this sll."
Wang Cong followed closely behind Qian Huan, nodding at his words, empathically comnting:
"This sll will probably linger for several more days before completely dissipating. But it’s an inevitable matter; whether bodies are cleaned or burned, they’ll leave a trace unless..."
Qian Huan tilted his head, casting a sidelong glance at Wang Cong: "Unless?"
Wang Cong answered thoughtfully: "Unless they’re consud and decomposed into fertilizer, which is nature’s long-established answer to humanity. Being eaten and decomposed is the minimal trace thod of disposing of bodies."
Qian Huan increasingly valued Wang Cong’s creativity and wisdom, yet did not entirely agree with his view on this matter.
He lightly chuckled and said:
"That’s not necessarily true. It’s just that our current technology is relatively primitive, many aspects of life are more rudintary. I once visited a hospital in Upper City, where their handling and utilization of bodies was quite advanced and convenient, truly impressive."
Upon hearing this, Wang Cong’s face showed a faint look of yearning:
"I truly hope that one day, I can accompany the Prison Chief to Upper City."
Qian Huan smiled, seriously promising:
Qian Huan smiled, his expression becoming serious as he promised:
"Opportunities will always arise. As long as our [Octagonal Cage Beast Fighting Arena] can develop smoothly, progress steadily, and continuously expand its influence, Upper City may not be out of reach. After all, there’s a prison in Upper City too."
Wang Cong heard the promise painted by Qian Huan and perceptively showed excitent, murmuring:
"The prison in Upper City, I can hardly imagine what the prison in Upper City is like; it must be vastly different from Lower City, far beyond my imagination."
Qian Huan’s mouth twitched slightly, as Wang Cong’s question indeed touched on a blind spot in his knowledge. Though he had visited Upper City, he hadn’t actually toured the prison there.
After all, at that ti, he hadn’t imagined that Celestial Light Capital would invest in the prison system and that he himself would tamorphose and be parachuted from a private company to beco a prison warden.
One can only sigh at the uncertainty of fate and the unpredictability of events.
Qian Huan exhaled deeply, interrupting Wang Cong’s daydream, stating solemnly:
"The prison in Upper City is still too distant for now, let’s not think of it. But this Death Row before us, you can think about it."
Wang Cong was montarily stunned on the spot.
Qian Huan firmly patted Wang Cong’s shoulder, taking out a position order that still slled of ink and stuffing it into the latter’s arms:
"Yesterday, I appointed Feng Mu to establish the Second Prison Internal Inspection Departnt, mainly to investigate this riot and stabilize the prison order. But everything he’s doing is ultimately laying a solid foundation for our plan."
Qian Huan paused, revealing a "you’re truly the person I value most" expression, solemnly stating:
"Death Row is the most crucial part of the plan; I now entrust it to you. Effective imdiately, you’re the new Prison Chief of the Second Prison’s Death Row."
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