The Secret of the Yoga Club: The Women's Identity is Not Simple

There were more people on the subway than when we arrived; the evening rush hour had just begun.

Lin Feng leaned against the carriage wall, took out his phone and glanced at the time: 5:12.

When Lin Feng got back to the subway station near the school, it wasn't dark yet. He exited the subway and found a small clay pot rice shop on the street behind the school.

The shop was small, with plastic tables and chairs, and a menu with red background and yellow lettering on the wall. I ordered a clay pot rice with preserved meat. When the proprietress lifted the lid of the clay pot, the aroma of steam mixed with soy sauce and preserved sausage wafted up.

Lin Feng lowered his head and ate his rice. The rice was baked into a layer of crispy rice crust at the bottom of the clay pot, which made a crunchy sound when chewed.

When I put down my chopsticks, the casserole was clean, with only a layer of oil remaining.

I took a tissue to wipe my mouth and glanced at my phone.

5:43.

It's almost seven o'clock.

Lin Feng locked his phone and placed it on the table. He tapped his finger twice on the table.

The things Fu Yongwei said on the phone came flooding back. "I've prepared everything," "I've also spoken to Teacher Zhou," "We almost got caught last time," "We'll talk about the vice dean's matter after things are settled."

It didn't sound like a proper dinner party at all.

Although Zhou Mei is usually fierce in class, she really cares about her students.

She called each student individually to urge them to submit their application materials for the financial aid program. For a few students from particularly impoverished families, she even called them to her office privately to inquire about their living conditions.

When Lin Feng was short 1,000 yuan for his tuition this semester, Zhou Mei helped him pay it in advance, and he will always remember this kindness.

I really want to tell Teacher Zhou about this!

The problem is, if he goes to Zhou Mei now and tells her, "Director Fu might have set you up at the dinner party," will Zhou Mei believe him?

A freshman in college overheard an office manager's phone call and ran to tell her that someone was trying to harm her.

Anyone who heard that would think it was made up.

I should have recorded it.

Lin Feng rubbed his temples and picked up his phone. No matter what, he needed to go check on things first.

In case anything really happens, at least he'll be there and can react accordingly.

After paying the bill, I walked out of the claypot rice restaurant and headed towards the bus stop.

There's only one bus route to the Boston Grand Hotel, the 102. I waited at the bus stop for about five minutes before the bus arrived.

The bus swayed and rattled through the university town, turned onto a main road, and after a few more stops, arrived at the commercial district.

Raymond Lam got off at the Boston Grand Hotel stop.

He quickly arrived at the hotel entrance, which was larger than he had imagined. The main building had about a dozen floors, with a facade of dark gray marble and gold accents. The main entrance had a high porch with a red carpet underneath, and two uniformed doormen stood at the door.

Warm yellow light shone from inside the revolving door, illuminating the red carpet at the entrance.

The parking lot in front of the hotel was already filled with luxury cars.

BYD, Geely, Chery, Changan, Great Wall, JFJ Mobile, Nezha...

There were also some that he couldn't name, but just by looking at them, he knew they weren't cheap cars, especially that black tram with an "L" logo, which was driving recklessly and taking up two parking spaces, and the driver was extremely professional.

Lin Feng did not go towards the main entrance.

To the left of the hotel entrance is a green belt planted with a row of neatly trimmed plants. Behind it is a small flower bed with a cement platform built around its edge, just big enough for people to sit on.

The location is not conspicuous, but you can clearly see everyone entering and leaving the hotel through the main entrance.

Lin Feng sat down on the cement platform, put his backpack next to his lap, took out his phone, opened a news app, and pretended to swipe through names, while keeping his eyes fixed on the hotel entrance out of the corner of his eye.

6:15.

The sun had almost set, and the lights at the hotel entrance came on, illuminating the entire red carpet.

With nothing to do, Lin Feng stood up and stretched his body.

6:27.

The hotel's revolving doors kept turning, with people going in and out. Some were wearing suits and carrying briefcases, some were wearing dresses and high heels, and some were dragging suitcases.

Every now and then, the doorman would jog to the parking area to get the keys and drive the car away.

6:31.

A figure in a dark blue shirt walked out of the hotel lobby and stood under the doorway.

It's Fu Yongwei.

Lin Feng lowered his phone and leaned slightly behind the bushes.

Fu Yongwei stood by a pillar in the porch, his hands behind his back, pacing back and forth, occasionally glancing towards the parking lot entrance.

He glanced down at his watch again, then began pacing back and forth under the porch.

He paced back and forth quickly, taking a few steps and then glancing up at the parking lot, then taking a few more steps and glancing up again, as if he were waiting for someone.

6:38.

A BMW X7 turned in from the parking lot entrance.

The car body was dark gray, and had just been washed; the paint shone brightly under the hotel lights.

The front of the car is very wide, and the double kidney grille is a whole size larger than that of a regular BMW, making it particularly eye-catching in the night.

The wheels are silver and black, and they're quite large, so they definitely turn heads.

The car came to a smooth stop in front of the hotel. The doorman immediately went to greet him, bent down, and opened the driver's side door.

A man got off the car.

He looked to be around 25 or 26 years old, and was about the same height as Raymond Lam. His hair was combed back, with the sides shaved very short, revealing the outline of his entire forehead.

His eye sockets were a bit deep, with obvious dark circles, giving him an appearance of excessive indulgence. He had a straight nose, thin lips, and a clean-cut chin.

He had a half-smile on his face, with his eyes slightly upturned, giving off a nonchalant vibe.

He was wearing a black casual suit jacket over a white T-shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing a watch on his left wrist.

He casually tossed his car keys to the doorman. The doorman caught them with both hands and jogged off to park the car.

When Fu Yongwei saw the car drive in, he stopped in his tracks. After the people in the car got out, he immediately walked up to them, leaning forward slightly, his waist bent at about fifteen degrees, and his smile was somewhat ingratiating.

I don't know what they said, but it was probably a greeting. The man was probably the young master Wang that Fu Yongwei had mentioned.

He reached out to shake hands with the other person, but then withdrew his hand halfway, turning it into a guiding gesture that pointed towards the hotel lobby.

Wang Shao glanced at him, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, as if to say hello. He put his hands in his pockets and walked unhurriedly toward the revolving door.

Fu Yongwei followed behind him, his body always leaning slightly forward.

The two figures disappeared into the revolving door.

I've never seen this young master Wang before; he doesn't seem to be from the school.

I turned my gaze away from the revolving door and glanced down at my phone. 6:41.

It will be 7 o'clock in less than 20 minutes.

Will Zhou Mei come?

The cement platform at the edge of the flower bed was so hard on his butt that it hurt a little. Lin Feng changed his posture and continued to stare at the hotel entrance.

6:48.

A white Volkswagen sedan drove from the parking lot entrance at a slow speed and came to a steady stop in front of the hotel.

The driver's side door opened first.

A woman in her thirties, wearing a dark gray business suit, with short hair, silver-rimmed glasses, and carrying a black briefcase, stepped out.

Lin Feng recognized her; she was a political science teacher at the business school, surnamed Wu. After getting out of the car, Ms. Wu adjusted her glasses and turned to look at the back seat.

The back door was also opened.

The first thing to step out was a calf covered in black stockings, with a slender ankle, and a pair of black pointed high heels.

Then he got out of the car.

It was Teacher Zhou; she finally came.