In the lingering drizzle,
Yang An called for a ride-hailing car, carrying the briefcase he had stolen, which contained four dried abalones and a box of dried sea cucumbers, arriving in silence at the Jingfeng Building where he had made a reservation.
The Jingfeng Building was three stories high, with red bricks, red tiles, red corridors, and a red roof. Whether the imitation of ancient architecture was a success was unknown, but the main theme of brilliance and splendor made it clear to all who came: this place was exceedingly expensive.
And it was precisely this exorbitant air that Yang An wanted!
He knew he had struck luck this time.
