Fu Yan Huo Ming Zhen

He wasn't a heavy smoker, barely smoking a few cigarettes in a month. But after days of constant spinning, his nerves were frayed. The nicotine rolled through his lungs, bringing a brief sense of ease, but with it came the crushing weight of grief over losing a loved one.,He stubbed out his cigarette, didn't hail a driver, but instead took the car keys and went to the garage, driving away from the old house.,It's late now, the windows on the twelfth floor are dark, there's no light, she must be asleep.。