"Shushu, look at me."
Pan Shu turned around, a hint of regret in her eyes, "I didn't expect that the first person to be eliminated would come out so soon."
He Qi cut his hair and looked more like He Jiali.
He no longer wore the dull gray suit, but changed into a white sweatshirt. He was imitating He Jiali.
"Do I look like him?" he asked in a low voice.
Pan Shu curled her lips cruelly, "So what, He Qi, in the last life, we were lovers, lying neck to neck, but you tricked me into the operating table with your own hands. You really do have a heart as hard as stone."
He Qi looked at her deeply, "So, I'm going to die, okay?"
He knew that this was a dead end.
No matter whether he won or was eliminated halfway, he had no way to gain her favor.
The word "atonement" itself is useless to He Qi.
Because his sins are beyond redemption.
If you take the initiative to be the first chess piece to die, you can still get a little sympathy from her.
"Okay, go to hell."
Pan Shu lightly retreated from his embrace, her red lips moving word by word: "Your breath really makes me feel sick and nauseous."
"Especially, this nondescript outfit."
"You will never be able to compare with He Jiali."
"Even if you look exactly like him, it can't cover up the filth and stench in your soul."
He Qi's face turned pale. He licked his dry, pale lips and curled the corners of his lips in an unsightly manner, "...I know."
…
"The latest financial news shows that the shares of two leading companies, Fu's and Shi's, have plummeted, suggesting vicious competition... Breaking news..."
"According to a news report from this station on January 5th, the renowned artist Mr. He Qi committed suicide by shooting himself at 9:31 PM on January 4th. Despite efforts to save him, he died at the scene... It is understood that Mr. He Qi made outstanding artistic contributions to the world..."
The man in black pressed the power button on the remote control indifferently.
He curled his lower lip in a cold, mocking tone.
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