It was only half a year after Han Feng's death that I learned of his suicide. I promised him that if he dies and I am not dead, then I will write down his story.
After the encounter in the bar, he often came to my house to eat and drink. The price of eating and drinking was of course his body, and occasionally I would give him a small amount of money. After a few chats, I was attracted by his story. People are greedy. From then on, he not only needed to use his body in exchange for money and food, but also needed his story.
Han Feng has been in a mental hospital, jailed, and seems to have killed someone. He has betrayed others and been betrayed by others.
When I heard that he committed suicide, I had not contacted him for more than a year. I was not surprised at his suicide. I was just sorry. Maybe death was a kind of relief for him, maybe he just had enough of this world.