At first, Nan Wan understood, but as she realized it, the blush on her cheeks, which hadn't faded, suddenly felt like it caught fire, spreading to her neck, collarbone...
————
President Mu's office.
A man wearing a courier company's uniform stood there, around forty years old, sporting a beard, his black shoes covered in mud, looking quite sloppy, in stark contrast to the understated luxury of the office décor.
Liu An cleared his throat and asked, "Four days ago, you received a package, tracking number 8945375290. Do you remember what the sender looked like?"
"I don't remember," the man seemed to not care about the person in front of him at all, his coarse manner revealed clear impatience, "Sir, I still have many parcels to deliver. If I waste too much time and get complaints from customers, my salary gets docked."
"We will double the amount of your docked salary," Liu An remained unruffled, "please think again."
