Shen Xian sped all the way, following the GPS because she only knew the direction she needed to go, utterly unaware of how many red lights she might have run through. The curses and the piercing screech of brakes nearby were quickly blown away by the wind to the rear.
She was like a nimble hummingbird, weaving through traffic and various alleys, racing like lightning towards her destination.
The gradually warming spring breeze became bitterly cold in the rapid advance, her fingers stiffening and going numb with cold, but she remained unflappable, her eyes bright and fixed intently on the road ahead, scanning for the most advantageous route.
A journey that should have taken over an hour took Shen Xian a little over twenty minutes to arrive.
She rode her motorcycle straight into the scrapyard. The first floor was filthy and chaotic, but it was clear that people had been there recently.
