Not long ago, autumn had arrived.
But the midday sun was still scorching hot, fortunately, Du You City stood by the seaside.
From time to time, the North Sea sent over bursts of cool breeze, this mix of hot and cold was indeed a bizarre sensation.
At this moment, Zhao Rong was standing under a few rustling bamboo trees, clad in a neat blue robe, waiting for the arrival of Mr. Shen in front of him.
Before long.
The noisy and crowded throng of people gradually parted, as if a ferry was making its way through.
Zhao Rong finally got a clear look at the true face of Mr. Shen.
He appeared to be around forty years old, with a kind face, a long beard, and all his black hair trailing behind him. He wore a cross-collared wide shirt, casually tied in the middle with a long belt, and wooden clogs on his feet.
This attire of loosely worn clothes and exposed chest, reminiscent of celebrated figures from Zhongnan, surprised Zhao Rong.
