In late January, the north wind cut like a knife, sending flurries of snow swirling through the air.
The bronze bells on the corner towers whimpered in the biting wind as neon lights snaked between skyscrapers, painting Yanjing in a riot of color.
A black Maybach 62S sped along Songyu Avenue, the cityscape blurring past the windows.
Chen Yansen looked ahead, his eyes landing on a magnificent, glittering sign that bore just two simple words: "Yun Ku."
"You know," Song Yuncheng remarked softly from the side, "it seems like every time Zhang Chaoyang invites you out, it's to a bar."
"He's asked me to go hiking, deep-sea fishing, and play golf, but I'm not interested," Chen Yansen replied.
The truth was, it wasn't a lack of interest. President Chen just preferred to enjoy those activities with beautiful women who had great figures.
'With Old Zhang?'
'Forget it!'
