He cried like a child.
"Old Mo, don't leave."
Chu Hao kept sobbing, his whole body trembling.
Everyone tried to comfort him, but it was useless.
This was the first time someone close to him had left.
Ankang Mo, an honest man from the countryside, gave him a job opportunity when he was at his wit's end, even struggling to eat.
Chu Hao went to the bridge to read fortunes for people, all thanks to Old Mo's suggestion.
Chu Hao attended funerals, arranged by Old Mo.
Chu Hao pretended to be a monk chanting scriptures, planned by Old Mo.
It wasn't easy, but Old Mo finally became wealthy, no longer worried about his children's education, and could enjoy their filial piety in his lifetime.
But all of this was gone.
All because of him.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry to you all."
"The one who should die is me."
"You are all innocent."
"Why did I come late?"
"I hate."
"I hate myself."
"Old Mo, wake up."
"We agreed to make big money together."
"I want to be your kid's godfather."
