We are all reborn, of course we have to overthrow it and start over again to take the whole family f

Changfeng was not dead, but his breath was very weak and he was in a deep coma.

The severe pain woke him up from his deep coma, but he couldn't open his eyes.

Those eyelids, which were usually as thin as paper, now felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

In my ears, I could clearly hear a sinister voice full of hostility: "Go to hell! Go to hell! Only when you die can Dad see me."

You die! If you want to blame someone, blame yourself for blocking my way. Hahahaha, from now on, everything you have will be mine, mine...

When the word "death" was mentioned, the voice was full of gnashing teeth, as if there was some irreconcilable hatred between him and him.

Changfeng works hard, works hard, and works harder.

Just as his eyelids were about to open, a pain ten times more intense suddenly struck deep in his heart.

"Click, click..."

With each harsh and sour sound, he could feel something being forcibly peeled off.

It's uncomfortable, extremely uncomfortable.

one two three.

He experienced that kind of pain that penetrated his bones three times. Each time, it was like a thousand ants gnawing at his heart, and each time he was peeled off, he became weaker and his brain became heavier and more confused.

Changfeng had a strong premonition that this time, he might really die.

It’s just a pity that I couldn’t see my mother again in the end.

"Click--"

It comes again, it comes again, that feeling of peeling comes again.

But this time, it was a little different. Somewhere in his body, unwilling to sit there and wait for death, a dazzling purple light burst out, and the feeling of being stripped away suddenly stopped.

After that moment, he seemed to sink into an endless dark abyss in an instant, his body falling rapidly downwards, and there was no more after that.

……

Changfeng, who was sitting in a wheelchair, let out a long, tired breath. This memory was too painful, too painful.

After a long time, he opened his eyes and looked at the jade ring in his hand, with the corner of his mouth raised slightly, full of bitterness and disdain.

This ring was somehow pulled off Liu Yunrong's hand when he saved her. He held it in his hand all the time, even when he was drowned by the black shadow or beaten and whipped by the "young master", he never let go.

He had just woken up and accidentally found it in a secret compartment in the desk drawer.

This jasper ring was made of ordinary green jade. But it was of excellent quality. The bright and beautiful ring surface seemed to reflect Liu Yunrong's beautiful face. But the next moment, it turned into a scene of her running away with her maid, regardless of his life or death.

He curled his lips in self-mockery, as if he had made a decision, and threw the jade ring behind him.

"bite--"

The jade made a crisp cracking sound when it came into contact with the marble floor.

The next day.

Early in the morning, the door of the Qinmo Book Pavilion was crowded with people. Before the door of the book pavilion was opened, two long lines had already formed.

They all came to buy the latest poetry collection from Shuge.

The Moshu Pavilion publishes a poetry collection every month, which includes classic poems, new poems by famous poets, and of course, works by new poets that the pavilion considers good.

Therefore, the Qinmo Poetry Collection has become the best platform for young people with dreams to make their debut and gain fame.

Just yesterday, not long after Xiahou Zi'an returned from Qinmo Book Pavilion, the book pavilion urgently printed the latest issue of its poetry collection.

Soon after the poetry collection was bought by an old customer of the bookstore, the masterpiece "Thousands of Miles Away, Sharing the Beauty of the Moon" became popular.

Its speed was as fast as an epidemic. In just a few hours, the whole capital knew about it.

"Hey, Brother Li, have you seen it? It's the most beautiful song in the world, 'Sharing the Beauty of the Moon Across the Distance'."

The bookstore hasn't opened yet, but the people waiting in line have already started chatting.

"I took a look at it. That's why I came here. Brother Gu Nian invited me last night, saying that he had found a masterpiece and invited me to enjoy it. My God, I was fascinated as soon as I saw it. It's not something that a human could write. It's obvious that only a banished immortal from heaven could write it!"

"Yes, I read it too. It was handwritten, not all of it. But just a few sentences kept me awake all night. Look, I'm here before daybreak, and I'm not even the first one in line."

"Hahaha, I feel the same way. Let's move forward and we should be able to buy it."

Qinmo Book Pavilion, backyard.

The design of Qinmo Book Pavilion is that of a shop in front and a workshop in the back. Its backyard is the workshop for printing poetry collections.

The shopkeeper, looking at the piles of books with the fresh scent of ink, smiled so much that his teeth were showing.

Haha, these are all silver!

"Boss, do you want to open the door? If you don't, our door will be crushed. There are too many people."

The waiter asked the shopkeeper while he was moving the books. There were too many people ready to buy books, and he was worried that they couldn't handle it.

"Almost done. Once we move these over, we can open the door."

Turning around, the shopkeeper said to the busy printing workers, "Masters, work harder. If you print more, your wages will be doubled."

Money makes the world go round. When the workers heard that their wages would be doubled, they cheered and rolled up their sleeves to get to work.

This batch of work is needed urgently. The shopkeeper has already quoted a very high wage for this batch of work. If he doubles it now, I'm going to make a ton of money.

The shopkeeper was very satisfied with the effect. He hummed a little tune and went to open the door.

"Hey, hey, hey, stop chatting, the library is open."

Someone said something, and the people in the queue rushed to the door like crazy. Even though the library had made a plan and increased its manpower, it took a lot of effort to stabilize the situation.

"Hey, there's a collection of poems called 'A Thousand Miles Away, Sharing the Beauty of the Moon'. Give me three copies. Here's the silver."

"I want five copies, and I'll give you the silver."

"And me, I want five too. I'll take the books and you don't need to pay for the change."

"Hey man, don't open that stack. I want all twelve."

"..."

The enthusiasm was so high and the sales were so hot that people who bought books did not buy just one, but several or even dozens of copies.

"Hey, hey, hey, you guys in the front are doing this while we in the back are still trying to buy yarn! Shopkeeper, please take care of this."

The shopkeeper had a bitter face. Customers were the ones who provided him with food and clothing, they were the gods of wealth, and he must not offend them!

Seeing that the shopkeeper was slow to respond, the impatient people in the back line rushed forward, and the thick wooden door of the book room creaked due to the pressure.

The crowd was squeezed into paper figures, "You stepped on my foot." "My wallet is missing." "Ouch, someone come quickly, I'm almost being stepped on...

The shopkeeper was scared, afraid that the house would collapse and people would be injured. If someone died, it would be a disaster.

He hurriedly announced that the purchase would be limited to three copies per person at a time. He then added that the bookstore was working overtime to print the book, ensuring that anyone who liked poetry could buy it, and that the price would not be raised.

After some operations, the crowd was stopped.

But obviously, the bookstore underestimated the enthusiasm of poetry fans to buy. Within two hours, a room full of goods were sold out.

The shopkeeper quickly hung up a sign saying that the poetry collection was sold out and people should come back tomorrow, then closed the shop and went to count the money.

Poetry fans who wanted to get a sneak peek at the poetry collection but couldn't buy it turned their attention to the black market.

It is said that two hours later, a collection of poems was sold for 50 taels of silver by scalpers.