Thinking about this, Lin Xian smiled wryly:
"I didn't expect I'd really have to be a 'law-abiding good citizen' in the truest sense."
CC heard this and turned around:
"Isn't obeying the law what's most expected? What else do you want to do?"
"Nothing."
Lin Xian spread his hands:
"I'm just lamenting that this isn't my home turf, Los Angeles. Alright, let's stop chattering, let's hurry in and get a room."
...
30 cents.
In New York's poorest Brooklyn, the poorest district, the cheapest motel, the cheapest room... There's no sense of expectation.
"A 30-cent standard room."
Lin Xian placed two coins on the motel counter, the owner accepted them, then searched for a key and tossed it to Lin Xian.
Took the small key.
Lin Xian gestured to CC, and the two of them stepped onto the squeaky wooden staircase together.
He knew well.
In a 30-cent standard room, it's impossible to have a private bathroom, no extra facilities, let alone a TV in 1952.
