Li Qiao looked at the two-story guesthouse through the dim street lights, her gaze growing heavy.
She really hadn't expected her elder brother to be held in a place like this.
The car door opened, and the two of them leaned out.
The night was as thick as ink, and a demolished area surrounded the guesthouse.
Shang Yu held her hand and walked across the uneven ground toward a red-painted iron gate.
Liuyun stepped past them and knocked on the gate, which was quickly opened by a man in a black suit, who strode out briskly.
His expression was extremely solemn, his collar adorned with a national emblem in gold, glittering under the streetlight as he nodded to Shang Yu and said, "Mr. Shang."
Shang Yu responded, hooked his thin lips into a proud and indifferent gesture, and said, "Lead the way."
"Of course, right this way, please."
