The woman spoke in a calm tone:
"Maozi... has passed away."
Lin Tian's pupils trembled slightly.
Passed away.
No explanation was needed; the meaning was easily understood.
Even though he had mentally prepared himself, Lin Tian couldn't help but feel a tremor in his heart when he heard those words.
"Tonight?" Lin Tian asked.
"Yes."
"Wasn't it said there were still five months?"
"He couldn't hold on that long."
The agent's lips had a hint of bitterness,
"Perhaps, Maozi has found fulfillment."
As she spoke, the woman took a few steps forward, came up to Lin Tian, and took a stick from behind her.
"Maozi asked me to give this to you."
It was a violin bow.
Lin Tian took the bow, which was covered in marks, the grip polished smooth. Although Mao Weiang was very elegant and humble, his playing style was always quite spirited, fitting his cold exterior and warm interior.
Lin Tian understood the gift Mao Weiang was giving him, but what puzzled him was...
"Why a bow?"
