The hall was silently still.
Everyone was waiting for the old man to speak.
He tremblingly reached for the teacup handed to him by Zhang Quanzhong, whose own hands trembled as well, the lid clinking crisply against the cup.
The old man brought the teacup to his lips and slowly sipped the hot tea of summer.
"I heard that a bank named Golden Money Leopard has appeared in Capital City recently, and it is doing quite well. Do any of you know about it?"
The old man spoke slowly, but each word was pronounced clearly. No one dared to rush him, listening intently as he finished.
"To report to the old man, indeed there is a bank called Golden Money Leopard. It is involved in many industries, and the owner is said to be a particularly strong young man."
"A young man?" the old man murmured.
