In Ziyuan District, Zhao Ziming's home was here. Zhao Ziming hadn't gone to work for over a week now, and his phone was unreachable. As one of Ye Feng's few good friends, Ye Feng decided to visit Zhao Ziming's home to see what had happened.
If Zhao Ziming could handle it by himself, that would naturally be the best.
A few minutes ago, in apartment 1602, building 7 of Ziyuan District, amidst the relatively luxurious living room, chaos reigned. A man with a face full of beard and the epitome of dejection sat on the floor of the living room. Surrounding him were bottles of alcohol everywhere.
Beer, spirits, red wine—the empty bottles of various kinds were piled around the man, who was holding a bottomed-out beer bottle in his hands. He drained it all at once, but it wasn't satisfying enough, so he began searching for more drinks.
