The leader's voice came from above his head, neither salty nor bland, as if he was reading a manuscript that had been written long ago. I felt the weak Qi in my Dantian leaking out, like someone had poked a hole in a balloon. It was freezing cold, from the soles of my feet to the top of my head.
"Senior brother, take care." Shen Mobai's voice sounded in his ears, as gentle as coaxing a child.
He squatted in front of me, took out an envelope from his sleeve, and stuffed it into my arms. I raised my head and glanced at him. He had a smile on his lips, but his eyes were as cold as well water in winter.
"One thousand yuan," he said in a low voice. "After you go down the mountain, find a place to hang out. Don't come back again. It's a shame."
