In the narrow room with gray walls, there was only one table with chairs on both sides. A cold light shone from above, illuminating the prisoner sitting behind the table. Under the dim light, someone across the table asked, "Name?"
"Maxwell."
"Age?"
The prisoner paused for a moment, thinking with a cocked head. "Fifty or seventy? Well, you can take the median, sixty."
"Occupation?"
"The principal of the Royal Academy of Music and many other part-time jobs." The white-haired prisoner said gravely, "All in all, I'm a big man. Be full of awe! Remember, when you write, you must recite and praise the Queen in your mind. "
"Be serious! Ye Qingxuan! This is for your own good…" The interrogator pounded angrily at the table. "Do you want to stay here for the rest of your life? If you want to have a trial at the earliest possible time, just cooperate!"