(God's perspective)
Mo Langqin's nightmare disappeared, but he did not wake up.
The blue sky and scorching sunlight came to his mind, instantly taking him back to that hot summer.
He is a hawker who likes to sell things. He has done everything from buying ice cream at the beach to selling spicy hotpot in winter, and his business has been very good.
Although he had all the documents and everything, he was still caught by the urban management to have a cup of tea.
Being arrested, having his things confiscated, and then being released to have his things returned, these are things that Mo Langqin will definitely experience every week.
"No conscience! No conscience! Doesn't it seem like your boy has been let in again recently?"
Suddenly a voice with an accent came from behind Mo Langqin.
Mo Langqin was still struggling with whether he was dreaming or whether everything he experienced in Guao was just a fantasy, but when he heard such a familiar accent, it became clear to him.
Now he is dreaming when he is wearing sandals and buying popsicles on the beach. The person approaching him is also the person in his dream.
Because the owner of this voice had died in reality, and was right in front of Mo Langqin.
Mo Langqin responded and turned to look at the owner of the local accent.
This man was wearing a red vest, black shorts, and a pair of flip-flops. His messy hair just covered his eyes. Even in the scorching summer heat, this person has no desire to cut his hair.
But Mo Langqin just looked at that messy hair and was irritated. In addition, this person thought he was calling his name seriously, but every time he sounded like he was heartless, this was why Mo Langqin was invited to drink every time. Tea is one of the reasons.
"You still have the nerve to say that! If it weren't for your young master..."
Mo Langqin answered subconsciously, but when he looked directly at the man's face, he couldn't bear to blame him anymore.
"Uh, Mo Liang, what's wrong with you, little bourgeoisie? Why are you so hesitant to speak?"
"Young Master, don't worry about anything..."
"Really?"
"Is it possible that there are still fake ones?"
Mo Langqin's accent was instantly distorted by this person.
Mo Langqin looked at the face of the person in front of him and always saw the disaster at that time. He hinted that he should not recall those terrible memories. He wanted to stay in this comfortable state for some more time.
Suddenly, Mo Langqin realized something. If he was dreaming, why did he feel so real about the touches around him?
"Maybe I have fallen into the realm of the Book of Power!"
Mo Langqin quickly abandoned the ice cream truck and ran towards the sea water not far away.
The man in the red vest with messy hair ran his hands through his hair in confusion.
"What are you going to do! Why do you suddenly want the popsicles in your car? Don't have a conscience!"
Then he saw Mo Langqin diving into the sea and was shocked.
"Come on Ren Ming! Come on Ren! Help Er Ben You!"
After Mo Langqin was rescued from the water, his dialect friend gave him two slaps on the face.
Mo Langqin also woke up from the real pain.
Looking at the scenery in front of him and the worried look on his dialect friend, Mo Langqin finally understood his situation.
"It seems that the young master has really fallen into the illusion of the Book of Power... Use this time to restrain the young master... just use this fool..."
"What are you talking nonsense about? Did you wake up with kerosene? Are you scared to death? You can't swim and yet you jumped into the water! You don't seem to be dying!"
"Oh, that's not true... Anyway, it's good that I'm alive in the end... Today... what month is it?"
Mo Langqin vaguely remembered that the boy in front of him was hit by a car while delivering food not long after they returned from the beach.
That day was July 18th.
"Today? Is your brain soaked with water, little bourgeoisie? No, is your brain soaked with water and stupid?"
“What day is it today?”
"July is like six."
"Straighten your tongue!"
"July 16th! Don't you think it's hard for you, a bourgeoisie, to be here?"
July 16th...there are still two days left. If he prevents this kid from dying, will he be restricted to this book of power?
The black shadow once told Mo Langqin that he could not change what had happened. Everything and everyone were stipulated, and anyone who broke the rules would be eliminated.
So, is he going to ignore this guy until death and suffer the same pain again?
Mo Langqin clenched his fist and punched the sand hard.
"Well, it seems like you still need to take care of your popsicle truck...it's going to be robbed of all your money by the naughty kid..."
Mo Langqin immediately put aside the mixed feelings in his heart, sat up straight and then stood up neatly and ran to his ice cream truck.
"Hey! You kids! Let your parents come over and pay me!"
Mo Langqin's dialect friend looked at Mo Langqin's back and smiled.
"You petty bourgeoisie still loves money so much..."
After Mo Langqin drove away the children, he greeted his dialect friend, "Zamao! You should come over and help me!"
"Here we go!"
As soon as Zamao ran towards Mo Langqin, the sole of his foot slipped and he was thrown directly into the sand.
"Zang Mao, are you okay?"
"Uh, it's okay! I just caught a little crab with my mouth!"
"..."
Mo Langqin couldn't tell whether the feeling in his heart was joy or sadness.
Something had begun to change. Nothing happened on the beach at that time. They were only concentrating on buying popsicles and nothing happened.
In this way, Mo Langqin spent another two days in the fantasy realm of the Book of Power.
The arrival of July 18th made Mo Langqin very uneasy. After watching Zamao leave the rental house, he became restless, fearing that his cell phone would ring and news of Zamao's death would be heard.
At 11 o'clock at noon on July 18, at the intersection of Dongda Avenue and Xiaoli Road, an out-of-control truck crashed into a pizza shop. The truck driver died suddenly from fatigue and a delivery boy was injured.
This delivery boy was Zamao. Mo Langqin didn't believe it when he heard the news, but after he was called to the hospital and saw Zamao's miserable appearance, he felt completely bad.
This was the day that changed some of Mo Langqin's ideas about making money.
But after one o'clock in the afternoon, Mo Langqin didn't receive any calls.
"This is how the same thing……"
Mo Langqin was confused, and he wanted to understand exactly what happened.
Finally, he pushed open the door of the rental house and wanted to go to the street to take a look.
But just after Mo Langqin opened the door, he saw Zamao squatting outside.
How is this going……
"Zamao, why didn't you go deliver the food..."
Zamao raised his head and looked at Mo Langqin through the messy head curtain, "Mo Liang, uh, I don't want to die yet. Uh, I thought about it a lot, but in the end I didn't dare to leave... I'm sorry."
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