Chapter 2

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Li Rong counted the few personal belongings, went through the discharge procedures, and took a taxi home with a handbag.

The house will be put up for auction in a month, but because he is the only one left, the court will turn a blind eye and will not drive him away this month.

In the last life, he hid at home for a month in a trance, tortured himself to such an extent that in the end he couldn't change anything.

It doesn't make sense to do it again.

Li Rong fumbled for the key, pushed open the door and walked in. There was a damp smell in the room that had not been ventilated for a long time.

I don't know if he has lived in Cen Wei's golden house for a long time, but he actually feels that his home is a little warm.

The valuable antique calligraphy and paintings in the family have been removed, and only the daily necessities remain. The traces of the piano being dragged are clearly visible on the tan floor, and the place where the piano was once placed is covered with a thin layer of white ash.

The whole villa is quiet, as if the sizzling sound of frying steak from the house next door can penetrate through the brick wall.

Li Rong calmly looked for the power strip to charge the phone, took off his clothes, and went into the bathroom with a towel.

The hot water washed down, and the medicinal fragrance and stickiness that had accumulated on his body for a week slid down the sewer. He carefully washed every corner of his body, and finally he was tired and gasped against the toilet seat.

I have to say that his physical fitness at the age of seventeen is far worse than that at the age of twenty-three.

If it wasn't for Cen Weitai's ability to toss him, he wouldn't have practiced martial arts for two years in an attempt to counterattack.

After washing and washing, Li Rong's movements gradually stopped. He looked at the blurred life-size mirror in the bathroom that was stained with water vapor, and his eyes gradually focused on his slightly green face.

He has the mind and knowledge reserve of twenty-three years old, can't he still deal with the eighteen-year-old Cen Wei?

"Let's guide now, and it won't be so crazy in four years." Li Rong muttered, moving his fingers back along his abdomen and rubbing his waist.

After taking a shower, he put on his dripping hair, went to the bedroom to find a fat T-shirt and put it on, then sat cross-legged at the corner of the bed and turned on his phone.

Six years ago, mobile phones were still small, and the design styles of various software were very retro.

It took him a while to get used to it.

Over the past week, he has received a lot of private messages, either caring, eating melons, or hearing rumors that he is dead to offer condolences.

The school group and class group have banned news related to him. The time in the group is quiet, the teacher assigns homework as usual, and even the number of check-ins has increased.

[Song Yuanyuan: Li Rong, is your family really bankrupt? Your parents committed suicide? ]

[Song Yuanyuan: I want to see you, but my mother won't let me. ]

His current girlfriend, childhood sweetheart, sent him two messages on the first day of the accident, and then he didn't post again for a whole week.

Li Rong watched it calmly, trying to recall Song Yuanyuan's appearance in high school in his mind, but unfortunately all he recalled was Song Yuanyuan who dumped him and chased after Cen Wei.

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