He spread his arms wide and gave Song Heping a hearty hug, even patting him firmly on the back, as if they were long-lost old friends bound by deep ties.
Although in fact, they had only met last month.
Yusuf was dressed in a well-tailored light gray suit today, with no tie, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, his slightly curled black hair meticulously combed, and the scent of his cologne was quite strong.
"You get information faster than the wind in the desert, Yusuf."
After the enthusiastic embrace, Song Heping proactively walked toward the sofa area.
Sitting on the sofa, Song Heping leaned back slightly, finding a posture that was both relaxed yet vigilant.
A servant in traditional robes, silent in his movements, immediately brought over an exquisite silver tray, on top of which was a teapot with gilded inlays and small glass cups.
Amber-colored tea was poured into the cup, the steam bringing with it a rich aroma of tea and the sweet cloying scent of sugar.
