1993, the mailroom of the Anhe County Bureau of Culture.
Lu Tao sits in a corner. On his desk is a chipped enamel mug, and locked in his drawer is a blank ledger.
Every day, he handles the mail and listens to people talk about who got promoted and who got demoted.
Nobody pays attention to him.
And nobody knows that inside his young body are all the things he accumulated by the time he was forty. In his previous life, he saw too many people build grand mansions, host lavish banquets, then watch their towers collapse. He knows what to say and what is pointless to say. He knows who gets things done and who stirs up trouble. He knows some things cannot be rushed, while others cannot wait.
He has no intention of putting up with it, but he's in no hurry to fall out with anyone, either.
He'll write down what needs recording, wait out what needs waiting, and when the time comes to act, he won't hesitate!
Starting from this office, no one can say what will happen next.
