After making an appointment with Wang Ping'an, Han Fei had initially planned to let him go home early, but Ping'an kept scrolling through his phone and finally pointed to the store beneath Han Fei's feet.
"Here... also ordered a lot of rice meals."
Han Fei looked at Wang Ping'an's phone screen; the first white rice order he had received had the address of the secondhand store.
"I delivered it to the store, but the food was thrown away. The staff said no one had ordered it," Wang Ping'an spoke slowly, struggling to express something.
"Our store also ordered white rice?" If only the dead order this type of white rice, it meant that there were also dead people in the secondhand market, possibly hiding in a corner of the shop now.