C25 Asylum

He walked briskly, his people following close behind. Without hesitation, he gave an address to the chauffeur and ordered him to drive.

Inside the car, Ziyan Qing shut his eyes—and a face immediately appeared in his mind.

A young girl. Fourteen, maybe fifteen.

Her image flickered like a ghost in his memory, haunting.

Ziyan Qing was the son of a man who ruled the business world