Eastern Equestrian Club.
In the luxuriously decorated restaurant, glasses clinked and laughter filled the air.
Today was a reunion of old friends: Quan Yu, Qiao Yishen, Chi Zhengjun, and a man wearing a black traditional Chinese jacket.
He was thirty-two or thirty-three. The black material of his traditional jacket was deep and felt substantial. The fasteners beneath his Adam's apple were tightly done, and his elbows rested casually on the table's edge. Silver thread embroidered a pattern of a dragon soaring among auspicious clouds on the cuffs, lending him an air of restrained, scholarly elegance.
"Langjun, have you finished your business? Do you plan to head back tomorrow, or will you stay a few more days?" Chi Zhengjun asked after taking a sip of his drink.
The man in the traditional jacket was named Gu Langjun. He had emigrated to Singapore with his parents when he was young. Although he grew up abroad, he had a special fondness for things with Chinese flair.
