The bodyguards following her looked at each other, feeling somewhat ashamed of themselves.
This woman is so fierce, does she need their protection?
Who does Young Master Huo look down on?!
The bodyguards stopped in their tracks.
That street has its own gangs, and it's not within the bodyguards' territory. Going in recklessly would attract attention and might even cause bloodshed.
But this was, after all, a task assigned by Huo Zhixing.
So they had no choice but to wait at the street corner until Sang finished packing her luggage before escorting her away.
Meanwhile, Sang Qing arrived at the basement, where everything was as before.
It was still damp and cold, with a musty smell in the air. The space was cramped, dark, and messy.
She suddenly missed Jiang Can's big villa, Nie Xin's luxurious suite, and the soft, comfortable bed she had slept in, with its fragrant blankets.
Even a pair of slippers or a bottle of shampoo worn by the wealthy exude an air of luxury and expense.
Sang Qing shook her head and smiled helplessly.
"You've already forgotten your place after just a few days of good times?" she muttered to herself, slapping herself twice. "Wake up! You need to wake up! That kind of life isn't for you!"
Okay, let's hurry up and get the things.
Sang Qing took a deep breath, took out the iron box, and found that not a single penny of the money inside was missing.
Just as she was about to put it in her pocket, a sudden voice rang out, scaring her out of her wits!
"What does this mean? You've saved up your money and want to run away!"
Sang Qing looked up abruptly. She hadn't closed the door properly when she came in—to be precise, the effect of having a door in this kind of basement was practically nonexistent.
James stood there, the chandelier in the hallway swaying, casting flickering light on his face.
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