MTL - Travel to a Primitive World to Build Infrastructure - Chapter 66

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.

Lawyer Tang Fangjing had finally made it through time-travel, only to discover that he was terminally ill, thank goodness for the systemBut he needed to achieve more than two hundred percent completion in order to ensure his own survivalAnd so, an extremely unorthodox lawyer emergedThinking you can just cut off an employee and provide severance pay?Come on, let's calculate the exorbitant overtime pay, including mobile communication after hours as overtime!Property management that does nothing but collect money, thinking about pulling out just like that?Gradually establish a resident's committee, backtrack twenty years of accounts, secure a huge compensation from property management without saying, and also send the property boss to jailWho's shirking responsibility for the unfinished building?Come at it with both administrative and civil lawsuits, make clear whose responsibility it is, whoever needs to go in must go inBeyond that, there are salary disputes, labour service scams...'When you encounter a problem, sending people to jail will naturally solve the problem' — Tang Fangjing

Jianghu was in turmoil, an era of great strife. The leader of Great Qin wielded the Mo Blade, leaving the world battered and bruised. The ageless figures of Jianghu crouched upon the mountains, and with a single turn, they cast the entire world below them. Strong men measured the earth with their feet, and heroes of Jianghu could cleave the heavens with one sword, yet in the blink of an eye, they were drunk in the embrace of beauties. The Taoist carried his sword, the Scholar drunk on wine. Wearing tattered clothes, a beggar grasped a rotten branch and dared to storm the ancestral hall of the Taoist Sect. On the willow-lined causeway, in the long pavilion, a man who had sat withered for thirty years turned and stepped out, holding a peach blossom, with a flick of his wrist, he shattered ten miles of red candles. The era of Great Qin was renamed the Great Yuan Era. The youth with the Wooden Sword left his mountain village behind.