...
The crisp night rain tapped on the eaves, producing a melody reminiscent of an ancient zither.
Wu Hen and Ruan Muhuan sat opposite each other on a pavilion, the wind mingled with the fragrance of grass, tousling Ruan Muhuan's hair.
She let her hair dance in front of her cheeks, and though she drank strong liquor, it was no different from drinking well water; her skin remained as white as ice jade, showing none of the warm hues that alcohol usually brings.
"Miss Ruan, you handle your liquor well, care for another pot?" Wu Hen asked.
Having investigated all day, it was time to fill their stomachs.
Wu Hen intentionally inquired with his compatriots, and the neighborhood's five-star restaurant where they currently sat was indeed a good choice. The taste was indeed impressive, offering a foreign charm unlike those run by fellow countrymen.
Ruan Muhuan wasn't as anxious about the outcome of their investigation as Wu Hen had imagined.
