Half an hour later, Xia ping 'an, who was neatly dressed, walked out of the hotel room.
Before leaving the room, Xia Pingan tidied up everything in the room. He stepped on the chair, untied the rope on the beam, and threw it into the storage box. He also put away the spilled wine bottles. If the hotel owner saw the broken rope hanging on the beam and the wound on his neck, who knew what the Philistine and bad-tempered hotel owner would do?
As for his current identity, from the moment he walked out of this room, he could only be a fallen painter in Paris, loan.
At this time, the hunger in her stomach became even more urgent. Without food, the body would take a long time to adapt to the spirit body and recover very slowly. This was something Xia Pingan did not want to see.
There was a water bottle in the room. In the past half an hour, Xia Pingan had only drunk a little water.
