?Reading on mobile phone Qin Feng noticed Isabella's gaze fixed on that spot and immediately turned his own attention there. Eight Zero E-book (txt02.com) It was a small performance booth featuring just one clowns dressed in costume, with props such as a fire stick and orange balls arranged before him. He was currently throwing the balls, the number having increased from four to five. Soon, it rose to six, then to seven. The clown mechanically grasped the balls with both hands and tossed them upward, his movements growing faster and faster. Though this was merely a well-practiced skill, it still attracted the attention of several customers, and even the performers from the nightclub couldn't help clapping and cheering. Qin frowned and observed for a while, then said, "I don't see anything special here. Are you questioning him, Sasha?" "Have you noticed that the paint on the clown's face seems a bit off, making his smile feel stiff?" Isabella said. Qin Feng stared at him carefully and remarked, "Isn't that how clowns usually smile? You mean the paint was first applied in a layer beneath the surface, then drawn over? Is that what you're referring to?" The elegant instructor nodded. "After all, if someone is a clown, why should they be overly concerned with their appearance? This method is simply to avoid drawing others' attention or raising questions—after all, most of the performers here know each other well." He found her reasoning sound, yet he believed the clown's current performance could not have been mastered in just a day or two. He hadn't heard of Ma Zhifei possessing such talent. To be safe, he decided to ask the old master, Mr. Wei, for confirmation. He gave the beautiful officer a glance and then walked to a quiet spot where no one was present, and dialed his father's phone. "Hi, this is Xiaofeng. I'm currently in a country in Southeast Asia. Here's something I'd like to ask you—how good is Mr. Ma's physical condition?" The elder on the other end was surprised. "Didn't I tell you before? His physical fitness is no more than that of an average special forces soldier. After all, Mr. Ma is quite old now. Even if he's strong, what can he do? To avoid the risk of Parkinson's or dementia as he ages, he often practices with small routines—like throwing oranges. It's said he can throw six or more at once with both hands, and they never drop to the ground. ...Dial tone..." As the elder was still speaking, he heard the busy signal. He chuckled and muttered, "This stubborn youngster—dare to hang up on me without a word! His temper is getting worse and worse!" Qin Feng walked back to Isabella without speaking, simply nodding at her. The beautiful instructor understood his gesture and nodded in return. They each took their drinks and headed toward the clown, who now had eight balls in front of him, earning enthusiastic applause from the guests. Qin, determined to play the villain, suddenly gave the clown a strange grimace. The clown remained calm, merely glanced at the diligent pair with a slightly more attentive expression, his smile unchanged. "Excellent!" Qin Feng praised loudly in Mandarin, then, with a truly generous air, pulled out several hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and waved them in front of the clown. The clown quickly returned each ball to the basket behind the table and extended both hands, smiling and saying in local dialect, "Thank you!" A few hundred dollars was a substantial tip here—most guests would only offer a few dollars as a token. "What did you say?" Qin Feng pretended not to understand and, with an unusually thick skin, stepped back, smiling cheerfully and saying, "If you can't say one thing I can understand, I won't give you the money!" The clown looked genuinely concerned, but after tapping his head thoughtfully, he managed to speak in a hesitant tone, "Thank you~" "Ha ha, I always said it—Chinese is the world's language; how could anyone not know it?" He generously placed the money into the clown's hands, held Isabella's slender waist, and walked off toward the next performance area. After walking a bit further, the beautiful instructor asked, "How about now? Are you sure?" "I'm confident with about ninety percent certainty—he's a Ma by surname," he smiled. "Although he tried hard to hide it and pronounced the words 'thank you' rather awkwardly, I could clearly hear that it was intentional. Even though his pronunciation wasn't perfect, his mouth movements and intonation were absolutely correct!" "Then we'll keep an eye on him and strike when he leaves," the beautiful officer said, gripping her fist. "Hm!" Perhaps having received a generous tip, the clown had become a source of admiration among the other performers. The clown himself, glowing with unmistakable excitement, soon approached a female dancer, quietly slipping a one-hundred-dollar bill into her dress. The dancer specialized in sensual dancing and also offered her body to guests; as long as the price was reasonable, she was more than willing to perform. She gave the clown a withering glance, but for the sake of the money, she took his arm and walked with him toward the backstage area. "I can't believe it's already settled so quickly," Qin Shao remarked, clearly puzzled—this demonstrated that both of them were seasoned professionals who needed little in the way of words. Isabella stood up and said, "I'll keep track. You go to the back entrance and wait. If it's indeed a Ma family member, he absolutely won't settle for anything less than a proper setting in the backstage area—he'll definitely take the woman to the nearest hotel!" "Got it!" Indeed, the clown refused the woman's suggestion of resolving matters right there, since, for her, the location didn't matter much—being here was better, as she could still go out and continue her work afterward. Though she wasn't overly enthusiastic, she still followed the clown out of the backstage area, after all, he was now a guest. A clown with a painted face and a woman in revealing attire—such a combination didn't exactly surprise the onlookers. They quickly checked in and took the elevator up together. As soon as they entered the room, the clown immediately unfastened his belt, removed his underpants, and asked the woman to perform a bit of vocal acrobatics. The woman pretended to be hesitant, fumbled a bit, and only finally knelt down to begin serving him. The clown comfortably closed his eyes. A few minutes later, he suddenly clutched the woman's head tightly, his body convulsing. Startled, the woman shook her head and coughed. Qin, the young man hidden by the window, shook his head and murmured, "Such meager skills, yet so interested in women—couldn't even last three minutes. Truly, he's quite hollow!"