That night, the quiet in Shazhou carried a trace of nervousness. The usually lively and boisterous night streets were strangely quiet. Everyone knew that something had happened, but no one knew exactly what it was.
To the east of the gambling dens were a few of Shazhou's largest and most comfortable inns. Wealthy guests from the North and South liked to book these inns.
Although Fan Xian was a simple second generation, he did not have the attitude of a second generation. His lifestyle was not plain; it was simple. He had only booked the topmost, quietest floor.
Xia Qifei stood conscientiously in the corner of the room. In front of Fan Xian, he carefully stowed away the token and signed his name on the document, then pressed on to it. He then respectfully handed over a leather satchel.
Fan Xian glanced at the document, nodded and smiled. "Sir Xia, now we are one family."
