Not rhetoric. His body was breaking down. There is no sweat on my right hand. The sense of touch is receding. The body temperature is locked at thirty-two degrees six. What Huajin Guwu took away wasn't his training time - it was his body, taken away one by one. The copper wire on his wrist is tied to a spiritual vein mine underground in the school. Sixteen people were locked up in the mine. My breathing has stopped for twenty-four years, but my heartbeat has not stopped. The spirit veins are waiting for someone to wake them up.
Gu Jiumu couldn't wake up. He is not the one who is waited for. He is using his rotten body to hold up the circuit and wait for the person to come.
On Yin Guichen's first day as a substitute teacher, the copper wire connected the circuit. The copper pipe underground rang.
When the sixteenth man opened his eyes, a second heartbeat came from deep in the mine. Not on anyone's frequency chart. Slower. Deeper. Not a human being. Master left a message twenty-three years ago - don't touch the seventh thread.
The physics teacher puts the curriculum on the podium. Under the lesson plan, there is a diagram of a pulse cut.
He wasn't looking for a pulse. It's Gu Jiumu.
