Han Zhijin stared at the smudge of red, remaining dazed for quite a while before he bowed his head to inspect his own body.
He wasn't injured... But where did the blood come from?
Han Zhijin racked his brains for a long time, unable to remember anything. His eyes, fixed on the bedsheet, were somewhat sore from the piercing red.
With a heart full of confusion and uncertainty, he took a shower, changed into clean clothes, and left the room.
Upon reaching the entrance of the hotel lobby, Han Zhijin handed the car keys to the doorman.
He had a creeping sense that something was off. Leaning against the glass door, he chewed on the leg of his sunglasses, trying hard to recall, but he could not figure out exactly what had gone wrong. His memory stayed stuck on the scene of him drinking in the Golden Splendor private room...
The car was soon brought around by the doorman. As Han Zhijin reached for the keys and prepared to get in, someone called out to him, "Mr. Han."
