When Lin Bei opened his eyes, there was a yellowed ceiling above his head, and a damp musty smell filled the air.
He propped himself up, his head hurting as if two kilograms of iron sand had been stuffed into his head.
"Holy shit, where is this?"
Looking around, I saw a dilapidated rental house with peeling walls, blackened newspapers on the windows, and only a pale energy-saving lamp buzzing overhead. The table was an old-fashioned folding table, with a palm-sized black card placed on it, and a piece of yellowed paper next to it with dense writing on it.
