In the back seat, Bao Shaojin lowered the car window, wisps of smoke drifting in front of him, obscuring his sharp face.
Beneath the meticulously tailored suit, his robust body was encased, and at this moment, his dark pupils seemed to harbor surging waves. In their movement, he appeared unfathomable, instilling a sense of malice and trepidation from the very depths of one's heart.
One cigarette consumed, two, three...
The traffic on the roadside decreased, until near dawn, when not a single car might appear for half an hour.
The black Rolls-Royce Phantom concealed itself under a withered tree nearby. No one noticed Bao Shaojin's slender arm appearing casually resting on the window edge, his index finger gently tapping the car body. His forehead slightly furrowed, a faint wrinkle stood out prominently on his face.
He did not even change his sitting position, maintaining this posture throughout.
Time ticked away, second by second.
