As they walked out of the Ministry of Defense Building, Baghdad's sweltering afternoon sunlight poured down unimpeded, sharply contrasting with the cool constant temperature inside the building, making one feel dizzy for a moment.
Heat waves carried the scent of dust as they hit their faces. In the distance, in front of the checkpoint in the Green Zone, vehicles lined up for security checks, and the roar of engines and occasional horn blasts formed the background noise.
Yusuf appeared quite excited, forcefully patting Song Heping on the shoulder, almost hugging him, his voice carrying undisguised joy: "Congratulations, my dear friend! If this deal finally lands, do you know how much you can make? That will be a sky-high—"
"I know the approximate range of numbers, Yusuf."
Song Heping calmly interrupted him, putting on sunglasses to shield his eyes from the glaring sunlight.
