Qin Guan’s fierce performance had overwhelmed them. The outfit did not look like it had been made for slender models, but for valiant soldiers.
Tough, but not rough. Idealistic, yet practical. The concept of the outfit had been interpreted perfectly by him.
"Pass?"
"Pass!"
Qin Guan's name was circled on the list.
Qin Guan had no idea about the final result, but he was confident. He had done his best, so he didn't care about the outcome. Actually, he owed this attitude to the money in his pocket. Several years ago, he would have even washed dishes at a restaurant in Chinatown for 500 dollars.
As he walked along the dark corridor looking for the elevator, Qin Guan suddenly heard cries and moans from the end of the hallway.
To go or not to go, that was the question. He was in an unfamiliar place, so he didn't want to poke his nose in other people’s business.