Interrogation room.
Tang Fei looked at Yu Bainian seated across from him and asked with a smile, "How is it? Getting used to it?"
Yu Bainian's face was pale, his expression defeated.
Still wearing that gold silk pajama, with the belt tied tightly, wrapping his chest firmly, a stark contrast to the carefree and unrestrained appearance he had on the top floor, with a large cigar in his mouth and his chest bare.
The flowered shorts on his lower body had dried, but still carried a sickening, vomit-inducing smell of urine.
He had only one slipper on his feet; the other shoe had been lost while he was being dragged into the car.
This was intentional on Tang Fei's part. There were no lack of clean clothes in the Monitoring Bureau, but having him in these pajamas made him truly understand the predicament of being in the Monitoring Bureau, as well as the tension and chill of hanging in the air with the cold wind like blades.
If you give him a little privilege, he'll want more power.
