The first heavy snowfall in early winter, accompanied by the rising sun, shone on the quiet Shanghai. Zhao Nianping sat on the bed in the cell, looking through the small window at the quiet morning glow and first snow outside the window, and sighed with a chuckle.
"Mr. Zhao, the time has come."
Zhao Nianping stood up, straightened his crisp suit, wiped his hair with pomade, put on his clothes, and walked out of the cell under the watchful eyes of the guards outside the cell.
In the early morning, the superintendent's car escorting the severely punished prisoners drove past the gate of the once glorious Zhao family compound. The prison guard on the side glanced at the prisoner sitting in the middle. He just closed his eyes gently, without any touch on his face. When the car drove past the largest dance hall in Greater Shanghai, he opened his eyes gently and looked at the location of the dance hall with deep affection.
He turned around and explained to the prison guard with a smile: "Don't be nervous, I just remembered the days when I was in a state of revelry."
There was a disdainful sneer in the prison guard's eyes, but he replied: "It's such a pity, Mr. Zhao."
Zhao Nianping closed his eyes and gently sketched the appearance of a woman in his mind. Gradually, her belly bulged slightly, and gradually, a little girl who looked very similar to her appeared next to her.
That's my wife, Lu Nuan.
The one next to me is my daughter, Lan Sheng.