From the moment he entered, Number 517 exhibited no discomfort or inhibition; it was quite apparent he was very accustomed to the ambiance of a high-end dining room. Even sitting down and ordering seemed second nature, as if he had been to this kind of place countless times before and was well used to it.
Moreover, the prices on the menu that would seem exorbitant to the average person elicited no reaction from Number 517.
Qiao Yin had long suspected that his family background was quite affluent, otherwise his hands wouldn't be so well-maintained. Hands without a single flaw testified that he had never engaged in harsh labor from a young age; he was a person brought up in the lap of luxury.
The way he ordered now only further confirmed Qiao Yin's suspicions.
After ordering, as the waiter left, Qiao Yin asked Number 517, "Where did you go this afternoon? Why didn't you come back to the Medical Clinic all afternoon? Did someone there upset you? Did someone say something to you?"