Chapter 115 Deserving to Be Single

There was not a sound in the morgue, and the smell of formalin filled every inch of space. Time seemed to stand still, no longer flowing.

Huai Kebing lay on a bier, covered in a white shroud, from head to foot. He couldn't carry the wealth, the status, the vanity, the women, the house or the car that he had. At this point, he no longer owned anything.

What would a king who had everything in life take with him when he died?

In the end, all he got was a pit and a pile of dirt.

At that moment, the door of the morgue opened and a man and a woman came in through the door.

The woman wore a white Chinese Tang costume and held a bunch of white chrysanthemums. She was in her early fifties, but her figure and skin were so well maintained that she looked like a woman in her thirties, still retaining a graceful bearing. Her face remained expressionless, her eyes hollow.

This woman was Huai Kebing's mother, Tang