Pang Jing lightly tossed and catched the gold ingot in his hand again and again. Every two or three times, he would stop, hold it before his eyes, scrutinize it, and then start tossing it again. He didn't seem to be trying to find any clues, and it was more like he was gauging the purity of it, like a scrupulous merchant.
Meng Mingshu was sitting diagonally opposite him, his eyes moving up and down alongside the gold ingot. As if hypnotized, he looked wooden and had totally forgotten about the question that Pang Jing had asked him.
