The gate of Tianshu Yuan is more than one level higher than the threshold of the most elegant restaurant in the city.
Those who can step into this place are either monsters who have been labeled as geniuses since they were young, or masters with a family background that is so tough that they can kill people. Even worse, they are ruthless characters who have won awards in major competitions and become soft-handed. Only Shao Zheng was a real exception - with the last score, he squeezed in despite the score line.
On the day of registration, the sun was so intense that the scalp was numb. Shao Zheng wore a pair of short-sleeved shirts that had turned white after washing, and a pair of sneakers that were not too old. He stood among the group of serious-looking newcomers in suits and ties, like a passerby who had walked into the wrong set. He still holds half of the unfinished bottle of iced black tea in his hand, and there is always a half-smile on his lips, looking carefree. No matter how you look at it, the words "top think tank" cannot be matched.
