The wind blew past the conference room door, and a man in a loose uniform stumbled out.
He seemed to have come out for some fresh air, stood in the hallway, lit a cigarette between his lips, and took a deep drag. The nicotine numbed his brain, and his expression gradually relaxed from tension.
Soon after, another man in a tight military uniform emerged, leaned against the wall with his butt, shoulder to shoulder and arm to arm with the former, bowed his head, and breathed out flames, white smoke stewing up.
Morning light seeped through the thinly polluted pale blue sky, and the white smoke coiled upwards.
"...I'm suffocating," Qin Er took a deep drag on his cigarette, "I bet you also came out to 'take refuge'."
He puckered his lips through the solemn pale corridor, indicating the farthest heavy crimson door with an iron handle shining like a dagger, as if a war was raging inside.
