The policy of "do not hit a smiling face" was followed.
Wang Binghun, that old hand, had greeted Qin Xuan with a smile from the moment he entered. After shaking hands, he had even changed his address from "Mr. Qin" to "Senior Qin." He admitted to his oversight in work and then made every effort to satisfy Qin Xuan's requests. This series of actions left Qin Xuan, who had a bellyful of displeasure, unable to vent his anger.
"Stop calling me Senior, it sounds awkward," Qin Xuan said, placing the two ID cards on the table. "I don't have any other requests, just open another room."
"Very well, Mr. Qin, I'll handle it immediately." Wang Binghun took the ID cards, bowed, stepped back three paces, and then turned to leave.
Outside the door, Wang Binghun took out his phone and made a call as he walked. "What is certain is that this Qin Xuan from Jiangbei has at least Hua Jin level strength. As for whether he is a Zong Shi, that cannot be confirmed yet."
"Understood. Since he is at least a Hua Jin martial artist, then all necessary measures should be taken to avoid any fault being found."
"Understood."
Wang Binghun had come with a mission. While Wu San could not discern certain things, he could grasp a little. In the Dragon Country, martial artists greeted each other with a cupped-hand salute, not a handshake. Therefore, Wang Binghun's initial address as "Mister" and the subsequent handshake were both intentional.
The Dragon Country Martial Arts Exchange Convention had drawn everyone invited from across the nation to the capital, and it was true that they were short-handed. Openly admitting to a lapse in reception work was not a major issue, but they only admitted to the lapse in reception, not any other fault. After all, before Qin Xuan's arrival, he had not stated that he was a Zong Shi expert. Wang Binghun's humble attitude meant that he would fulfill all reasonable requests. What more could Qin Xuan want? Thus, Wang Binghun's flawless execution left the frustrated Qin Xuan with no room for complaint.
"Actually," Ling'er's large eyes blinked at Qin Xuan. "There's no need to open another room."
"What?" Qin Xuan's face stiffened. He pointed at the bed where Ling'er was sitting. "There's only one bed. Do you want to sleep on the sofa, or should I? Besides, with the two of us, a man and a woman alone in a room, it's not proper."
"I don't mind," Ling'er pouted her tongue and pursed her lips.
"You don't mind, but I do!" Qin Xuan's forehead was covered in black lines. What was this situation? Were women this casual nowadays?
Before Ling'er could say anything, Wang Binghun had returned. He knocked on the door, and upon hearing Qin Xuan's assent, he entered. "Mr. Qin, here are two room cards. The new room is right next to yours. Both rooms have had your facial recognition information registered. Do you have any further instructions?"
It had to be said that Wang Binghun's efficiency was truly remarkable. Within a few sentences, the matter was settled. Qin Xuan said his thanks, tucked one of the room cards into his pocket, and left. Although he wanted to find out who this Ling'er really was, the atmosphere between the two of them in the room was indeed a bit awkward. However, no sooner had Qin Xuan stepped out than Ling'er followed him.
"Then, Mr. Qin, if you need anything, please contact me directly." Wang Binghun handed Qin Xuan a business card.
"Then I won't disturb you further."
"Thank you for your trouble." Qin Xuan took the business card and nodded. Did Qin Xuan not know what Wang Binghun was scheming from the beginning? He simply found his handling of the situation to be quite prompt and saw no need to quibble. It was all tacit understanding between them.
After Wang Binghun left, Ling'er stepped forward and tugged at Qin Xuan's sleeve. She then pouted and pointed at her stomach, saying in a wronged tone, "I... I'm hungry."
Qin Xuan was at a loss with this Ling'er. Since he had brought her along, he couldn't possibly abandon her. He sighed. "Let's go, let's head downstairs to see what we can eat."
Qin Xuan patted the bank card in his pocket. He had only brought two hundred thousand with him for this trip to the capital, and he wasn't sure if it would be enough. If he had known, he would have brought more money. Alas, it seemed he had become someone else's meal ticket the moment he arrived in the capital.