Jiang Yuan's office was at the other end of the downstairs floor, a small one about twenty to thirty square meters in size, roughly the same as Yuan Yushan's changing room.
The office contained a desk, sofa, and filing cabinet, all looking brand new and hardly used.
In contrast, the cigar humidor, safe, and tea table seemed to have seen much more use. However, they were all in a state of disarray now; the shattered teacup and dropped cigars indicated the haste of the owner's departure.
Walking out of Yuan Yushan's office and into Jiang Yuan's, even the several police officers could feel a stark disparity, as if they had left a panda enclosure and stepped directly into a black bear's.
Mu Zhiyang couldn't help but say, "Even though I can't afford such a big house, I still think Jiang Yuan is quite pitiful."