Thirty eight

It was early winter in Beijing, and intermittent snowfall gave the city a picturesque white hue. As the snow settled on buildings and rooftops, it contrasted against the asphalt roads, which were occasionally split by passing cars. The freezing wind blew, occasionally howling to emphasize its intensity.

In the Rothschild Corporation, Nolan had just arrived at the office. He took off his windbreaker and hung it on the coat rack by the entrance before entering the main office. Unlike the simple and minimalistic design of his mansion's office, this one had a European setting. It consisted of a separate main office and a lounge area with sofas and a wine rack.

Inside the office, a large and tidy desk stretched from one edge of the room to the other, with only a mini PC and a few arranged files adorning its surface. Behind the desk, a long and wide bookshelf was installed into the wall, filled with books of various sizes and covers.

Nolan picked up the remote for the heater on his desk a