Bab 640: The Standard Beyond 150

Zheng Dao buried himself with work in his study, occasionally lifting his head up to glance outside the window. When he noticed the huge black cookie-like silhouette hanging in the sky, he could not help but sigh.

It was currently day time; not night time.

If it were night, the cookie would reflect sunlight. Its huge size gave it a mysterious sense of grandeur and majesty, although it was second only to its oppressiveness that could not be extinguished.

It was no longer the moon that hung far away in the sky. Now it was more similar to a space station, or a man-made body.

…

To a young pursuer of literature like him, the disappearance of the moon would forever be a pain to him.

Many works of literature had already written 'the death of the moon' as traumatic literature.　

Romance had once again, bowed its head to reality.