C123

Sitting in the car, he moved his arm to the window and flicked the ashes from the cigarette with his long fingers. With a dark expression, Yu ChengHui's eyes swept across the yellow slip of paper at his feet.

Picking it up, he spread it out. It was a string of numbers, elegant writing. It should have been written by that woman.

Yu ChengHui's Adam's apple rolled, his hand on his knee