Almost at the same time as Xia Pingan got on the horse, at a railed bus stop on runyi Street in the West of Shangjing city, a middle-aged man, who looked gentle and full of charm, was walking up to the bus stop. He was wearing a long black umbrella, a black leather briefcase, a wool coat, a waistcoat, and a linen shirt. He had a pair of glasses, a little white sideburns, and a trimmed beard on his lips.
In Shangjing, those men who would bring an umbrella, carry a briefcase, and take the railed train when it was not raining were generally decent middle-class people in the city. They had a stable income and decent jobs. They were the backbone of banks, exchanges, firms, law firms, and accounting firms. Some ran their own small businesses and lived a good life.
When there were many people in the station, there were at least 3 - 4 men like him.
In Shangjing, such a person was full of gentlemanly manners and looked the most harmless.
