After Feng Mu left, Qian Huan lazily leaned back on the chair, raised his hand to touch his chin, and grinned, a hint of deep meaning in his smile.
His gaze fell again on the computer screen, his fingers gently tapping the mouse, scrolling the web page up and down. Flashing by were rows of eye-catching news headlines.
On the screen, an overwhelming flood of reports surged like waves, each title like a shining arrow, pointing directly at the public's focus:
"Truth of the Second Prison Riot Exposed, Who Is the Real Culprit."
"Reform of the Second Prison—The Untold Story of My Experience with the Elimination System."
"Qian Huan, a Wronged Reformer!"
"....."
Among these headline news, some are true, some are false, some are mixed with half-truths, and some are just fabricated, but every tone sounds conclusive.
One might think they were all prison guards in the Second Prison, informed insiders, or perhaps dead spirits in the riot who aided the media in their dreams.
