Ning Fan's eyes were as still as ancient wells, with only a hint of indifference. A mere glance was enough to send chills down someone's spine.
The wind was strong, yet it seemed unable to affect Ning Fan in the slightest.
His gaze shifted, staring intently in a specific direction, only to see a luxurious motorcade appear.
A fleet of Rolls-Royces, unparalleled in luxury, slowly came to a stop at the beginning of the red carpet.
The central Rolls-Royce door opened automatically, and a foot stepped out, followed by a man who walked out under the undivided attention of the crowd and countless spotlights and flashing lights.
The man was tall and distinguished, with an indescribable aura, and his face, serene like the calm before a storm, bore a hint of an elegant smile. His temples were graying, making it difficult to guess that he was in his fifties; he looked hardly in his thirties!
