The Divorced Wife of the Richest Man is Reborn

At the city police bureau.

Outside, reporters were setting up electrical wires and video cameras. Police officers were preparing the site for the public trial, hanging hand-cut red banners. Armed police secured the perimeter, while prosecutors discussed the situation in the venue.

The entire street from the police station to the detention center had been under tight security since 8 AM. Though not officially public, the road was packed with curious onlookers.

The public trial was being prepared now, set to begin promptly at 4 PM.

Meanwhile, in the meeting room, the atmosphere was tense. A group of leaders were engaged in heated debate over the sentencing recommendations in the indictment to be submitted to the prosecutor's office for several criminals.

Yan Zhao, just a deputy director of a branch bureau, wasn't yet senior enough to speak and could only listen.

Fan Xiang had taken a life - he would receive the death penalty. Today's public trial was prepared for him, and two bullets were already set aside.

But the leaders were still arguing over the indictment recommendations for Fan Zhenhua and Director Mi.

Deputy Director Zheng from the city bureau was particularly animated: "Yes, Fan Zhenhua and Mi De are absolute scum in our police force, but they only harbored thugs - they didn't personally kill anyone. They don't deserve death..." He gestured emphatically: "We're all servants of the people, shouldn't we have some empathy..."

At this point, Yan Zhao suddenly spoke up: "From the start of reforms in '84 until now, shouldn't they be held accountable for all the deaths caused by the thugs and gangsters they protected - through assault, rape, robbery and other violent crimes? If we're talking empathy, I'd hunt down and execute anyone who dared harm my wife or child, to the ends of the earth."

Deputy Director Zheng, still young and a former military officer who had been a regimental commander, was used to deference from other transferred military personnel. He was stunned that a mere deputy director of a branch bureau would contradict him: "What did you say?"

"These cases all happened in my Jindong branch jurisdiction. I recommend the death penalty," said Yan Zhao.

Deputy Director Zheng slammed his hand on the table: "Absurd! Many countries have abolished the death penalty. Look how progressive America is - they use electric chairs now. We're still using bullets. Besides, if you execute a department head and former bureau chief, who will dare to come be an official in Xiping City in the future?"

Yan Zhao's gaze cut through the crowd, fixing on Deputy Director Zheng: "You're welcome to go be an official in America."

"Preposterous!" Another slam on the table.

In this setting, Deputy Director Zheng's attitude was actually the correct one. No one becomes an official seeking death - people seek a good life, wealth, or perhaps some have lofty ideals. But more important than ideals is living safely to old age and securing that pension.

The more Deputy Director Zheng argued this way, the more his colleagues would support him.

Sun Nutao had come to the meeting despite being ill. He wanted to join the debate but lacked the energy. Ma Bo stood up: "Deputy Director Zheng, just last year there were 32 deaths directly caused by thugs and gangsters committing rape, robbery and burglary. Five of those were children, the youngest just two months old. But under Director Mi's interference, the perpetrators were only detained for two months before being released."

An infant crying for milk - and the price the murderer paid for strangling that life was just two months of knitting sweaters and sewing buttons in detention.

Should the murderer die, or is the puppet master who got him released from detention even more deserving of death?

Everyone fell silent as Ma Bo began pinning crime scene photos to the blackboard. The horrific images filled everyone's hearts with sorrow.

But suddenly, someone let out a cold laugh. The laugh was so jarring, it chilled people to the bone.

Deputy Director Zheng immediately thought he had caught Yan Zhao: "Yan Zhao, stand up. This is such a serious, tragic situation. Why are you laughing?"

Yan Zhao's laughter ceased. His already stern face tightened further, causing his jet-black eyes to gleam like a sharp sword in the moonlight, flashing with a bone-chilling light.

He slowly stood up. At over 1.8 meters tall, the golden police badge on his sleeve caught the sunlight streaming through the window, casting a golden glow across his face and eyes as well.

But his gaze remained ice-cold as he stared at Deputy Director Zheng.

Deputy Director Zheng felt an inexplicable tightness in his scalp. Though he had been a soldier himself, he was no match for this blood-forged man who had come up from an infantry company and seen real combat. He couldn't help but shudder.

Enunciating each word, Yan Zhao said: "When it comes to the interests of the people, we must kill one to warn a hundred!"

The line between corruption and integrity may sometimes be blurred, but the red line between life and death must be defended.

Bureau Chief Zhang finally spoke: "The interests of the people cannot be violated. I support the death penalty. Let's vote by show of hands." He raised his own hand.

Everyone from the Jindong branch bureau raised their hands. Gradually, leaders from other branches and the city bureau raised their hands too. In the end, only Deputy Director Zheng was left. After hesitating twice, he too raised his hand.

Three death sentences, unanimously approved.

Currently, for special crackdown cases like this, they did not need to report to the provincial department for approval. They could make the decision themselves.

Deputy Director Qin added: "Let's report this to the provincial department, and also arrange for all city branch bureaus to be notified and hold extra study sessions."

This set the tone. The atmosphere in the meeting room immediately relaxed. After a whole morning of meetings, people finally dared to stretch.

The cases of Director Mi and Fan Zhenhua still needed review by the provincial department. Fan Xiang would face the firing squad today.

Leaving the meeting room, Ma Bo said quietly: "Chief Yan, that was hardcore. You really did our branch proud today."

Sun Nutao had terminal lung cancer. The hospital said surgery meant certain death.

But not having surgery also meant death, so he simply chose not to have surgery. He kept it secret from everyone, determined to fight until his last day. He felt he could do it.

But everything he said now carried a sense of putting his affairs in order. He told Xiong Xiangdang: "When you get back, gather all the police officers from each station for a meeting to convey the spirit of this meeting. Protective umbrellas and dark forces within the police are even more concerning than vicious killers. We must also seriously examine ourselves."

"In the future, I want to learn from Deputy Director Yan - learn his uncompromising spirit and courage to stand up to superiors," said Xiong Xiangdang.

Sun Nutao smiled helplessly: "You can learn other things, but don't learn to contradict superiors. In the future, just follow his lead. Let the superiors tell him to contradict them, understand?"

Yan Zhao could be tough and dare to challenge leaders because he had his father backing him up. If he really stirred up trouble, his father would cover for him.

Plus, he himself didn't care about promotions, only about doing the work. Even superiors who disliked him had to tolerate him. If others contradicted superiors like he did, wouldn't that be suicide?

In any case, today's public trial would be broadcast on TV.

When everyone watched the TV broadcast together in meetings, the impact and feeling would surely make all the corrupt officials in the city tremble in fear.

Sun Nutao wanted to chat more with Yan Zhao, but Bureau Chief Zhang came out and said: "We have the public trial this afternoon. Deputy Yan, shall we have lunch together and have a good talk?"

"Alright," said Yan Zhao.

All the superiors and colleagues in the hallway were watching him.

The bureau chief deciding to have lunch with Yan Zhao was a show of strong support, making his stance clear to his colleagues.

But Deputy Director Zheng wasn't convinced. He also came out and followed Bureau Chief Zhang, his eyes red: "Chief Zhang, am I doing this for myself? I'm trying to do what's best for everyone!"

Yan Zhao gave a look, and Sun Nutao handed over Qi Songlu's appeal letter: "Old leader, why don't we have lunch together today and you can hear me out about this case?"

Helping clear Qi Songlu's name was something that could get TV coverage - a chance to be in the spotlight.

Besides, who wouldn't want to see a female hooligan, to see a pretty girl on TV.

Likely the whole city would tune in to watch - it was a great opportunity for fame.

This matter hadn't yet reached the city bureau's meeting table. Once it did, it would be endlessly discussed in meetings, then more meetings and more discussions, with everyone passing the buck.

Public trials would become increasingly rare, with state approval becoming more and more strict. Sun Nutao actually wanted Yan Zhao himself to take the stage, to be in the spotlight and help overturn Qi Songlu's case.

But giving the spotlight to Deputy Director Zheng was indeed the better choice.

Only Deputy Director Zheng could navigate all the levels of the city bureau, prosecutor's office and TV station in the next six hours to get Qi Songlu on the public trial stage.

They exchanged a look, and Sun Nutao patted Yan Zhao lightly.

It's rare to find such a kindred spirit at work. Unfortunately, his days are numbered and he won't be able to accompany Yan Zhao on his journey.

Deputy Director Zheng looked at the case file and realized he could easily overturn the verdict for this female hooligan. He picked up the file and left.

Getting Qi Songlu on television would be Deputy Director Zheng's race against time today.

...

Chen Meilan took Little Wolf to attend the parent-teacher conferences for the two older children. Dongfang School had a closed management system, so parents were generally not allowed on campus except for conference days. So today was Chen Meilan's second visit to the school since Children's Day.

As soon as she entered the school gates, Little Wang's homeroom teacher approached her: "Are you Yan Wangqi's mother? Would you like to come to our class meeting first?"

"No, no, come to our class," Yuanyuan's homeroom teacher waved: "Shengnan's mom, our meeting is about to start, and you're supposed to give a speech."

"No, no, come to our class first," Little Wang's teacher insisted, trying to pull her along.

Seeing this situation, Chen Meilan felt tense. She wasn't worried about Yuanyuan's grades, but feared Little Wang might have done poorly.

At parent-teacher conferences, teachers only focus on two types of parents: those of the lowest-performing students and those of the highest-performing ones.

With both meetings happening simultaneously, she couldn't be in two places at once but needed to manage both children.

Little Wang's teacher seemed overly enthusiastic today: "Come on, let's go to our class first. Yan Wangqi's situation is more typical, you must attend."

Both children were looking at Chen Meilan at the same time. After all, she was only one person. Little Wang assumed she would attend Yuanyuan's meeting instead, and though unhappy, he had to endure it.

Chen Meilan was in a difficult position. It's very easy to plant a thorn in a child's heart, but very hard to remove it.

She actually wanted to go to Little Wang's meeting more, but Yuanyuan had surely done well, and who doesn't like hearing praise from teachers and seeing envious looks from other parents?

Fortunately, at that moment, Yan Xishan arrived, hurriedly eating a meat sandwich: "Meilan, you go to Yan Zhao's kid's meeting. I'll go to my daughter's."

"Dad, hurry up! Teacher Wang just said I got 100 in both subjects," Yuanyuan let go of Chen Meilan and ran towards Yan Xishan.

Yan Xishan took his daughter's hand and said, "We had a test yesterday too. Guess how many points Dad got?"

"100 points!" Yuanyuan jumped up and said.

Yan Xishan said, "How could that be? I got 38 points, but I was first in the class."

He was attending adult night school, so 38 points was actually quite good.

In his previous life, when Yan Xishan was on his deathbed and could no longer speak, Lu Jingyu once brought the now-adult Big Treasure and Second Girl, both prominent figures in the city, to see him. Chen Meilan went too, and saw him trying to open his mouth, tears streaming down his face, staring intently at her but unable to speak.

So Chen Meilan asked Yuanyuan what he wanted to say.

"Education," Yuanyuan said, wiping the corners of his eyes with a cotton swab. "He said he regretted divorcing you and not being able to give me a better education."

Speaking of education, Chen Meilan remembered she needed to sign up for driving lessons. With this year's project completed, adding a car to the family wouldn't be a problem.

The children needed education, and she needed to grow too. Otherwise, she would still be left behind by the times.

An unexpected surprise.

Today, not only was Chen Meilan not criticized by the teacher because of Little Wang, but the teacher had arranged for her to sit with Liu Jiaxuan's mother. After hearing the teacher announce the results, she learned that Little Wang and Liu Jiaxuan were tied for first place, both scoring 100 in two subjects.

"I heard you're a female boss. That's impressive. Children from nouveau riche families usually don't do well in school," Liu's mother said.

Little Wang probably hadn't expected to perform so well. He stood on the stage accepting praise, occasionally glancing at Liu Jiaxuan with a triumphant look.

Chen Meilan couldn't help but smile and asked Liu's mother, "What do you do for work?"

"Let me introduce myself. I work at our local vehicle administration office. It's a new department, you might not know about it. If you buy a car in the future and need to register it, come find me," Liu's mother said.

Chen Meilan grabbed Liu's mother's hand: "Can I also come to you for driving lessons?"

"We don't handle driving lessons, but I can recommend a driving school to you. My brother runs one. He'll arrange for someone to pick you up and drop you off, and guarantee you'll get your license," Liu's mother said.

"That sounds great. Could I get your number? I'll give you my business card," Chen Meilan said.

On stage, the two first-place students were subtly competing, while below, their mothers had already become friends.

There weren't many women learning to drive or driving at that time, so after the parent-teacher conference, Liu's mother treated this as news and shared it with everyone. Almost all the parents attending were women, and they discussed it animatedly, chattering away.

Yan Xishan, who always gravitated towards wherever Chen Meilan was, overheard and immediately said: "You? With your mouse-like timidity, how could you possibly learn to drive?"

Back then, Lu Jingyu had said the same thing. It seemed men couldn't survive without putting women down.

Chen Meilan had already planned it out. She would get her driver's license before National Day, buy a car, and from then on, she would drive herself.

...

Today, because it was Su Wen's birthday, Yan Zhao came home early.

Little Wang, holding his test papers, bought a bottle of cola for Little Wolf, and waited for his father at the bus stop.

As soon as Yan Zhao got off the bus, he handed over the test papers without saying a word.

The two men of the house walked side by side in silence, with Little Wolf gulping down cola behind them.

"Dad, don't you want to say something?" Little Wang tentatively asked.

After all, it was his first time getting first place. His dad should praise him a little, right?

"Keep it up, don't fall behind. You're my son, getting first place is only right," Yan Zhao thought. His son should always be first; not being first would be abnormal.

Today was not only Su Wen's birthday, but there was also good news: yesterday, Yan Bin's son's high school entrance exam results came out. He got into the city's top high school, ranking third in the entire city. He had practically stepped halfway through the door of a prestigious university.

Song Huaihua was cooking at home, inviting relatives and friends from the same clan to eat together.

She called specifically to say she was busy with work and her son's success was all thanks to Yan Bin's tutoring and cooking. If Chen Meilan really wanted to send something, she should send something Yan Bin likes. So Chen Meilan bought two notebooks and a pack of cigarettes to congratulate Yan Bin.

The whole family walked together towards the First Brigade. Chen Meilan noticed Qi Songlu hadn't returned yet, so she asked Yan Zhao, "Where's Qi Songlu? Was there a public trial today? Will she be on TV tonight?"

He had said Qi Songlu would be on TV today.

This was what Chen Meilan was looking forward to most today.

"She's still at the main bureau. When I left, her case was being discussed at the Radio and Television Bureau. We'll see on TV later, she should be on," Yan Zhao said.

Getting on TV wasn't that easy. It was already 6:30 pm, they had just finished recording, and still needed the Radio and Television Bureau staff to review the footage. The news broadcast starts at 7:30 pm - it was a race against time.

Yan Zhao could only push the case forward, but whether Qi Songlu could actually appear on TV ultimately depended on Deputy Director Zheng's public relations skills.

Soon they arrived at the First Brigade. The door was open, but there were no beddings on the kang bed, indicating that Yan Wei and Mi Lan weren't staying here. They had just tidied up a bit, offered a bouquet of flowers to Su Wen's memorial tablet, and then retreated to Yan Bin's place.

Yan Zhao led the whole family to kowtow and offer incense. Just as they finished, hearing the commotion from next door, they went over.

Song Huaihua and Yan Bin were cooking. A pot was set up outside the kitchen door frying pork ribs, while inside the kitchen, smoke rose from the large wok, also frying something.

"Meilan, come help quickly! Help me scoop out the fried dough twists," Song Huaihua poked her head out of the kitchen and said.

Chen Meilan entered the kitchen and pursed her lips, asking Song Huaihua, "Where's the one from the capital?" referring to Mi Lan.

"She says her heart condition is acting up. She's been sleeping all day. We're all worried she might have an episode," Song Huaihua said.

Big sister-in-law Liu Xiaohong was kneading dough for the twists and couldn't help laughing, "Don't scold me for saying this, but I'm actually waiting for her to have a heart attack. I've never seen what it looks like when someone has one."

Mi Lan had been here for two days, and the whole village knew about her heart condition, but she just couldn't seem to have an attack, which was frustrating for some.

"Sister-in-law, you..." Song Huaihua stuffed a hot fried dough twist into her sister-in-law's mouth. "People should speak kindly. You shouldn't joke about others' illnesses."

In a bedroom, Mi Lan was wrapped in a quilt, lying on the kang bed.

Her hair was matted and stuck to her face in clumps.

She was originally thin, and now wrapped in the quilt, it was hard to even find her. The leather bag containing the bonds was clutched tightly in her hands.

Outside, the family was cheerfully drinking tea and chatting while waiting for dinner, but Yan Wei was in here watching over this sickly person.

Song Huaihua's cooking was especially good. There was a pot of stewed vegetables with egg skins, wood ear mushrooms, and daylily buds, fried small pork ribs, and fried dough twists. It smelled delicious.

Song Huaihua personally brought in the food, but Mi Lan didn't eat a bite. Though Song Huaihua greeted her with a smile, Mi Lan didn't even acknowledge her, looking as if she were on her deathbed.

"This illness seems serious. Second brother, you should take your wife to the hospital," said Song Huaihua.

Mi Lan, with tears in her eyes, replied, "No need. If I'm to die, I'll die right here."

Yan Wei was both worried and angry.

Mi Lan's dramatics and stubbornness were making him lose face.

His brothers were all watching. He had promised to redeem the bonds on Monday, but Mi Lan clearly had no intention of handing them over. Her heart condition was just an excuse, ready to be used at any moment to scare people.

Yan Wei knew Mi Lan was looking for an opportunity to have an "attack," using it to buy time, yet he felt powerless to stop her.

Just then, at seven-thirty, Yan Zhao had already moved Yan Bin's television outside. He patted Little Wang's shoulder, signaling him to tune into the local channel and turn up the volume.

The TV was broadcasting a public trial.

"I will now read the 'Criminal Prosecution Opinion' regarding Fan Xiang, Fan Zhenhua, and Mi De," a loud voice came from the television, causing everyone eating outside to freeze with their bowls in hand.

"Is this a public trial broadcast?"

"Who's that? Isn't that Bureau Chief Zhang from our city bureau? When was this recorded? It can't be live, can it?" said Yan Bin.

"Who are they trying? Mi De? Isn't that our old Director Mi? Is it really him?" an old man asked.

The sudden excitement was more thrilling to everyone than the Hong Kong movies at the video hall.

If Mi Lan had seemed gravely ill and on the verge of an attack moments ago, she now suddenly leapt up from the bed, not even bothering to put on shoes as she ran barefoot into the courtyard.

The black and white TV flashed an image of a bald, chubby old man in handcuffs, restrained by four armed police officers. Wasn't that her uncle?

"Is she having an attack?" Song Huaihua was startled to see Mi Lan rush out.

Liu Xiaohong, still chewing on a twisted cruller, exclaimed, "So that's what a heart attack looks like. Frightening!"

The sisters-in-law at the kitchen door wanted to laugh but held back, feeling it inappropriate.

"Come on, let's eat. Second sister-in-law is from the city, perhaps she's not used to our country food?" Yan Bin said with a smile, picking up his bowl, still trying to invite Mi Lan to eat.

Mi Lan kept walking towards the TV. The image had already passed, but she had to believe what she'd seen, as the TV was now reading out her uncle's crimes: involvement with organized crime, maintaining a criminal gang, indirect responsibility for 32 deaths, plus corruption and bribery. Multiple crimes combined, sentenced to death by firing squad.

So not only was he going to prison, but her uncle was to be publicly executed on live broadcast?

Mi Lan clutched her head and began to tremble.

The others present didn't know that Mi De was Mi Lan's uncle. People prioritize food and shelter above all else, and on such a joyous occasion, with a public trial and criminal execution on TV to liven things up, everyone's main goal was naturally to encourage eating.

They tried to persuade Mi Lan to sit down and watch while eating.

But Mi Lan had been so shocked by the news that she was completely disoriented, unable to hear what others were saying.

"Why aren't those two eating?" Yan Yong asked. "Has Yan Wei been in the city so long he can't stomach our country food anymore?"

"Yes, damn it. Second brother survived on our mother's blood, but now he can't even eat rural food," Yan Zhao said coldly, picking up his bowl and glancing at Yan Wei. "Let's all eat. Don't mind him."

"Don't mention it. Auntie was a saint," Yan Yong reminisced. "Back then, we were all thin and starving. We ate everything from tree bark and grass roots to leeches from the river and grasshoppers and earthworms from the fields. But Yan Wei was always plump and fair-skinned, and never seemed hungry. People from outside the village were curious about how this child could grow so well in those times. Only we knew. Auntie was afraid he'd starve to death, so she kept breastfeeding him even though she was skin and bones herself. I heard my mom say that Auntie's milk was always red. Why? Because she had no milk left, and Yan Wei was drinking her blood."

"So Yan Wei's survival was all thanks to Auntie. In those days, a whole generation of children starved to death. From '57 to '59, he was the only one in our village who survived," Yan Bin added.

Everyone in the courtyard sighed and marveled, mainly lamenting the hardships and difficulties of that era they had lived through, saying that Yan Wei was a filial son for coming back to burn incense for his mother on her birthday despite being so busy.

But Yan Wei stood rooted to the spot, as if struck by lightning.

Yesterday, Yan Zhao had said that Yan Wei had forgotten how he had survived.

Yan Wei hadn't taken it seriously, thinking he had survived on grass roots and tree leaves.

Yan Yong's words were like a bolt from the blue.

At this moment, the sighs of everyone in the courtyard felt like knives slicing into his heart.

He was born in 1957, facing the three years of Great Famine from birth. In that era, the survival rate for children was extremely low, and he had never known how he had managed to survive when so many others didn't.

The rift between him and Yan Zhao had always been deep. Yan Zhao seemed to always resent and blame him, but he didn't know why. He had tried hard to reconcile with his brother, but his brother had always been dismissive.

He thought his brother was just bad-tempered, as people in the capital said, thinking he was unsociable, thinking it was his brother's fault.

But he had never considered that the reason he had survived was because, during the years of famine, he had been living off his mother's blood and flesh.

No wonder Yan Zhao had always been cold towards him, no wonder he couldn't be bothered to even speak to him.

When he had blamed his mother for sending him to the capital at such a young age, when he at least had fine rice and white flour to eat in the capital, he had never thought about how his mother had nourished him with her blood, sent him to the capital where he wouldn't go hungry, while she had to stay in their hometown, raising two younger children on work points to earn food.

Yet after he had his own son, he had hardly ever returned home, not even attending his mother's funeral, and had never brought his own son back for his mother to see.

Who was the ungrateful wretch that Mi Lan kept cursing? Wasn't it him?

He had even shamelessly thought it was right for him to use his mother's money to make some money for himself?

Mi Lan couldn't fake her illness anymore. She moved nimbly, with full vigor, running back to the room to grab her bag, intending to go out, probably to pull some strings and see if she could get Mi Fang out.

As she entered the room, she saw Yan Wei picking up her bag, about to leave.

"Yan Wei, what are you doing?" Mi Lan asked.

"Returning Little Wang's money," Yan Wei said.

"If you're returning money, why are you taking my bag? Hey, my watch! I have medicine in my bag. Oh, my heart hurts, quick, give it back!" Mi Lan cried out, as Yan Wei was removing the watch from her wrist.

She had a gold chain around her neck with a jade pendant. Yan Wei took that off too. "Right now, the bonds, the house, all your bags, watches, gold bars at home, they all belong to Little Wang."

"Yan Wei, have you gone mad? Ah, my heart hurts, I'm going to have an attack!"

This cry of an impending attack briefly scared Yan Wei. He hesitated for a moment, then Mi Lan continued, "Don't forget my mother's kindness to you. If you keep this up, I'll have an attack right now."

That's right. When Su Wen died, Yan Bin had sent a telegram asking him to come home, saying his mother wanted to see him.

His son had just died, and Mi Lan was having heart attacks, looking like she might die at any moment. She wouldn't let him leave, so he didn't dare to come.

At the time, Wang Gebi had advised him that his mother had always cared more for the two younger ones, and that as long as he was filial in his heart and loved his mother, there was no need to make a show of it.

But his own son had died in his arms. He had watched his son close his eyes, feeling a pain that tore through his heart, almost unable to go on living.

What about his mother? The mother who had nourished him with her blood, who had sent him to the capital so he wouldn't go hungry? How did she close her eyes at the end, never having seen her son return?

"Not only do I want to see you have an attack, I'm going to divorce you," Yan Wei shouted, the most forceful words he had ever spoken in his life.

He shook off Mi Lan and went out, moving step by step to the front of his family's door. Before he could enter, he fell to his knees outside the threshold.

The early-rising moon of June, the lamplight from next door, the sound of a gunshot from the TV, and the three sticks of incense flickering on the table.

The smoke curled upwards into the night sky.

Once upon a time, when the wind blew through the fence and moonlight spilled through the window, his mother must have sat by that window, always waiting for his return.

What a sinner he was. He had lived for over thirty years, sinning without even realizing it.