In the outskirts, Green Leaf Ceramic Factory.
As night was beginning to fall and dusk had not yet completely faded, the remnants of daylight cast a mottled pattern on the roof and walls of the factory buildings, while the shadows of trees swayed in the wind, like the fangs and claws of the night, lurking on the ground.
In the distance, the hills undulated, patchworks of light and dark, resembling a slumbering beast, appearing especially sinister in the night.
Around seven o'clock in the evening, the workers at the ceramic factory had all left for the day.
In the office, several key players were gathered.
Liu Qing was still dressed in a cheongsam, but this time it was purple, her demeanor not as simple and elegant as when she was beside Old Zhang. Now, her true nature was revealed, somewhat enchanting and seductive.
Purple really was full of charm.
In her hands, she was holding an ancient coin, slowly turning it in the bright light, admiring the details: