Outside of the venue, Li Zhiyuan was sitting in an attention-seeking race car with his fingers slowly tapping on the steering wheel. At the exit, people were moving out. Nearby, police sirens could be heard, and the sound of ambulances was heard. Cold beads of sweat were forming on his forehead.
A young lady walked towards him and opened the car door. Then, she sat inside the car.
Li Zhiyuan nodded. "You're here alone?"
"Yup!" The lady's voice was a little hoarse. It seemed like she was not very young. Her fingernails were colorfully painted, and her fingers were slim and well-maintained, yet it could be seen that she was not young.
Li Zhiyuan said, "That's so dangerous. If you need anything, just tell me."
"I want Shen Qianshu's life. Would you listen to me?" the lady asked.