The cold morning wind whipped through the mouth of the alley, carrying the harsh smell of unburned high-octane gasoline.
Ouyang Fei took two steps forward in his alligator-skin boots. He held his gold-plated phone high, angling the camera lens right at Qin Haoran’s face.
“Brothers, look at this!” Ouyang Fei yelled into his microphone, his voice dripping with venomous glee. “Look who we found delivering takeout in a filthy hutong! It is the great Qin Haoran! The crown prince of the Jiangnan Qin Clan!”
The live stream chat on his phone screen exploded with hundreds of messages every second.
No way! Is that really Qin Haoran?
The guy who bought an entire yacht fleet in Sanya last summer?!
Why is he wearing a cheap floral apron with pink peonies?!
Did the Qin Clan go bankrupt overnight?
