Bai Zhongqi lay his head on the desk, writing out his next battle plan with a fountain pen. In fact, it had been a long time since he'd written with pen and paper, having hardly even typed, as he usually just transmitted his thoughts and text would form. Technology had changed the way people lived, which in turn had further changed humanity itself.
In such a time-consuming and laborious way, Bai Zhongqi humbly went about accomplishing a task. He understood that he could not alter the relentless advance of civilization and that, even as a leader of civilization, he was likely a "discard," left behind by the wheels of progress.
By writing, he forced himself to remember the past, like the trivial matter of buying a set of pancake rolls from the night market stall behind the neighborhood, chased by urban management, or being forced to crouch at home, holding a brush and writing big characters that had no meaning at all.
