A little over ten minutes later.
Only Zhou Chen was left in the private room. Everyone else had gone through a secret door to enjoy the activities arranged by Fu Qing. The secret door was a floor-to-ceiling mirror in the corner of the wall to his left. The activation switch was in the manager's hand; once pressed, the mirror would retract to one side, revealing a long, red-carpeted corridor behind it.
On the right side of the corridor was a row of bedrooms with tightly shut doors. Through a momentary glimpse when a door had opened earlier, Zhou Chen saw that inside were suites like those in a luxury hotel, decorated in a rather risqué style.
He sat still on the sofa, motionless as a statue, piecing together the clues in his mind.
