Just when Mo Yuyao was unsure how to sleep.
In Sunan.
Inside Sister Que's coffee house.
Qingluan, dressed in white, sat calmly at the bar, while the originally quiet coffee house had quite a few people tonight.
Strangely, all of them were women, seemingly around thirty years old, quite young indeed.
Of course, being young didn't mean they were pretty. Some looked decent, but most were rather average women.
Among them, a cold and glamorous beauty stood beside Qingluan, face calm, neither sad nor happy.
Sister Que stood in front of Qingluan, saying, "Everyone is basically here, except for a few who need to maintain basic order in Southeast Asia and those prominent figures. Those who can fight are probably all here."
Qingluan nodded indifferently, picked up a cup of clear tea on the table, took a sip, then stood up and said, "Though there aren't many people, they should barely suffice."
