Time has lost all meaning for Fang Zheng.
Day rises, night falls, winds rise, clouds gather.
The Ci Hang Sect had long vanished from people's memories, or perhaps few ever remembered such a sect existed.
Fang Zheng silently sat atop the dilapidated roof, observing everything around him.
Nothing remained here, only ruins.
Yet Fang Zheng still remembered how Fan Qinghui had once been desperate, screaming, struggling, collapsing, and ultimately resigning herself to corruption.
But for Fang Zheng, this wasn't his main headache.
In this world, Fang Zheng's most troublesome enemy wasn't external threats, but internal capitalist forces.
Evidence showed that capitalists, regardless of era, country, or region, all shared the same nature.
