Tan Xiang's unconcealed disdain and contempt didn't anger Song Guanchao in the slightest.
He wasn't so easily provoked.
"Stop the car," Song Guanchao said.
Shen Qing glanced in the rearview mirror, then slowly pulled the car over to the curb.
Song Guanchao got out, walked to the driver's seat, pulled open the door, and said, "Sit in the back."
Shen Qing was puzzled, stealing a look at Tan Xiang.
Tan Xiang nodded slightly. Shen Qing undid her seatbelt and got into the back seat.
Once Song Guanchao was back in the car, he floored the accelerator—the engine roared, the car shot forward like an arrow loosed from its bow.
The two women were pressed back against their seats by the sudden force.
Half an hour later, the car left the city limits.
Tan Xiang felt a faint unease, but quickly reassured herself: If Song Guanchao hadn't dropped them off at the police station, there was nothing to fear.
At four in the afternoon, the car pulled up in front of a small hotel in town.
