Within just thirty minutes, the first rest area on Highway 15 came into view. When they saw the three big Greyhound buses parked in the lot, the stewardesses couldn't help but cheer, and the Bald man even blew a whistle. This was a lifesaving escape tool.
"Qin Yan, stop the bus." Fifty meters away from the rest area, Tang Zheng asked Qin Yan to stop their rickety bus. He then climbed up onto the roof to study the terrain and surroundings through a telescope.
The outside of the rest area was a parking lot marked out with white lines, already filled with about thirty cars. Further in was the main building, a dozen two-story houses painted in brownish-red, with various English signs hanging above. Tang Zheng, with his translation skills, could understand that they included a half-price hotel, a Chinese restaurant, an Italian restaurant, a gift shop, a medium-sized supermarket with vending machines at the door, and of course, indispensable public telephones and a gas station.
