Xiao Jinlang, under the guise of "procurement," cautiously avoided drawing attention from everyone in the shelter, and drove away in a nondescript SUV from the shelter converted from an abandoned playground.
He raced north along Virginia's Route 95 towards Washington D.C., not far away.
Along the way, he carefully selected three widely separated gas stations to purchase some ordinary living supplies.
Only after repeatedly ensuring there were no suspicious vehicles or individuals tailing him did he drive off the highway and park beneath the shadow of a remote overpass.
There was already a dark, old Ford sedan parked under the bridge.
When Xiao Jinlang approached cautiously, the Ford's driver's side window slowly rolled down, revealing an entirely unfamiliar white face.
His steps abruptly halted, and a chill raced from his spine to the top of his head, as if he had fallen into a meticulously arranged trap—could he have been lured into capture?
