The sycamore leaves rustled in the twilight, as Gu Zhenbang smoothed the wrinkles on his suit sleeve and lowered the car window in front of Building No. 7.
Security captain Old Chen's gaze swept through the car, and after spotting Gu Zhenbang's face in the driver's seat, he quickly scanned the back seat to confirm that Gu Zhenbang was alone before nodding slightly.
"President Gu, please."
Old Chen gestured for his subordinates to open the gate of the courtyard, watched Gu Zhenbang's car drive in, then returned to stand at the gate kiosk, gazing placidly at the empty road outside, as if nothing had happened.
Inside the clubhouse, a warm golden glow cascaded from the six-meter-high crystal chandelier, as Gu Zhenbang's Oxford shoes stepped over the Italian hard flooring, pausing momentarily in front of the whole wall Hainan huanghuali bookshelf.
