The final outcome of the conversation was an unhappy departure.
The two seemingly reached a consensus on something, but this consensus did not bring either of them any relief or joy. To call it a consensus would be less accurate than to call it a compromise.
That very evening, the Xuanwu Lake Hotel in Jinling once again welcomed a group of uninvited guests.
In the presidential suite.
"Champagne or whiskey?"
"Water, just give us some boiled water," the rugged man sitting on the sofa said.
"Alright, boiled water it is." The middle-aged man with golden hair helplessly shrugged his shoulders, glanced at the eight people standing behind the rugged man, his mouth twitching before he gathered all the cups he could find in the room and placed them in front of them, all filled with boiled water.
"Professor, I understand your concerns, but they are unnecessary," the rugged man said. "We are professionals."
