"I'm going to use the restroom."
"Okay!"
Carson Flores leaned on the glass railing of the shopping mall, took out his phone, and scrolled through short videos while waiting for Shirley Miller.
"Cough, cough..."
A bout of severe coughing drew Carson's attention.
As Carson turned his head, he saw a man in his sixties, dressed in a Tang suit, violently coughing with his hand over his mouth. His face was crimson as if he was immensely distressed, looking like he might run out of breath and pass away at any moment.
Next to the old man stood a sensual young woman in revealing clothes with a slender figure, around twenty-five or twenty-six, patting the man's back. As she slightly bent over, the large expanse of her pale chest became partly visible, drawing onlookers' eyes.
Carson looked at the old man's complexion, his brow furrowing slightly. This old guy seems quite ill.
