"Judy, no matter what you used to call me Mr. Chen. To treat me like this today, your dear mother's spirit must be restless."
The speaker was a man in his forties, with a brown, impeccably tailored suit, a meticulously groomed backcombed hairstyle, a pronounced nose bridge, and distinct facial features. He was very well-preserved. But a hint of malevolence weaving through his brows spoiled the overall good impression he might have otherwise given.
Judy sat in the office chair, dressed in a rose-red suit with big wavy curls, with a jeweled cigarette holder cradling her lit cigarette. Her every pout and smile exuded a rich, syrupy allure, akin to a fiery fine wine aged over the years.
