C242

It was almost midnight when Mu Zehao walked out of the bar. The cold wind that blew on his face made him tremble, and the yellow leaves of the Wutong tree fluttered in the wind and gently hit his face. The street was sparsely populated and empty, making Mu Zehao feel like a zombie.

The cold mist permeated the silent city, which made Mu Zehao much more clear-headed. He touched his car keys