King Yan Prison.
Fo Ye was comfortably leaning back on the bench, the radio beside him still playing Peking opera tunes. He closed his eyes, waving his hand in the air in time with the music.
Fo Ye was a rather stubborn and traditional man, somewhat reminiscent of the Republic-era style, with incense smoke curling up beside him.
Then, the door was abruptly pushed open. A subordinate hurriedly ran in, flustered: "Fo Ye, Fo Ye..."
Fo Ye reached out his hand, and the subordinate smartly shut his mouth. No matter how big the world was, nothing was more important than letting Fo Ye finish listening to his opera.
Only after this Peking opera song finished did Fo Ye open his eyes: "Ah, that was satisfying."
Seeing Fo Ye start to drink water, the subordinate quickly said, "Fo Ye, someone is here to see you."
