Armed with a curious heart, Xinghe stepped into this small, ancient-looking hotel. Sitting behind the old counter was a middle-aged man doing the account. He was gaunt, and even though the shirt on his back was old-fashioned, it was of a certain luxury. There was a calculative glow in his eyes. Xinghe could discern from one look that he was the hotel manager.
The manager saw her, and his gaze swept her whole frame expediently. He then stood up with a smile to ask, "Lodging?"
"Yes, give me your best room," Xinghe said as she passed him her temporary ID. She had acquired temporary residence at Country W, so she did not have to go around with her passport.
The manager accepted her ID and studied it. He asked with a smile, "Where are you from? It says here you are not from this country."
