There were three vigorous and powerful characters written on the plaque. The characters inlaid with
gold on a black background were magnificent and solemn.
"What does it say?" Joan asked.
Amanda raised her head and noticed three words, "Phoenix’s Pavilion", were written on the plaque.
She explained to Joan, "It is said that there was a queen of the dynasty who lived here, so it was
named the Phoenix’s Pavilion."
Joan blinked as if he was thinking what she meant.
Amanda asked, "No idea what it is?"
She paused and continued, "The queen is the wife of the ancient emperor of our country. The Phoenix
is the king of birds in our country. In order to show the majesty of the queen, she is honoured as the
Phoenix."
"Your country's culture is really special. Everything needs to be gone around the bush." Joan seemed
to understand what she meant.
Amanda smiled. "Your idiom is good, but it's not ‘to go around the bush’, it's ‘to beat around the bush’."
"What's the difference?"
"..."
"Nothing. Let's go inside."
Amanda said.
Joan followed her. "Could you teach me to write in your language afterwards?"
"If you want me to be your teacher, you have to pay me." Amanda looked at him and joked, "Since
you’re so rich, I’ll charge you 2000 dollars an hour."
Joan replied, "Sure."
Amanda smiled. "I'm just kidding."
"2000 dollars an hour, and you’ll be my teacher," Joan repeated.
"..."
She was secretly amazed that he had treated it seriously. She was only joking! But looking at Joan's
serious look, it seemed that she can't lose this student.
‘Whatever.’
"I'll reluctantly accept you as a student." Amanda went to a stall selling antique fans. The silk surface
was embroidered with exquisite patterns, and red flower strings were hanging below. She took one and
looked at it in her hand. Joan picked up one after her too. However, he didn't take the figure painting
one, but the scenery, and there were some poems on top.
He handed it to Amanda. "What's written on it?"
Amanda took it over and there wrote: Parting between lovers induces sorrow at two places. Oh, what
cannot be ruled out is that, when this yearning between lovers and this sadness of separation has just
disappeared from the slightly wrinkled eyebrows, they vaguely filled one’s heart.
After reading it, she said, "What nonsense."
The fan vendor was unhappy. "Haven't you gone to school? This is written by a famous poet, how is it
nonsense?"
Amanda looked at the fan vendor and wondered are all the stall owners so educated now?
The fan vendor wanted Joan to buy it and he said, "This is a poem written by a famous poet in our
country. It's about love. It suits you well."
Amanda almost burst into laughter. ‘How does this fan suit Joan well?’ He was an eight-foot man with a
very masculine look. It was already amusing imagining him using the fan.
Amanda thought that to sell his stuff, that vendor could go against his heart, and he can say anything.
Joan put it down and shook his head. "I don't want it."
Seeing the vendor trying so hard to sell, Amanda asked, "How much for one?"
"Three dollars."
"I'll buy one." Amanda took the money from her purse.
Joan stopped her. "I'll pay."
The fan vendor regretted it. If he knew that the woman liked it, he would raise the price. Until then, the
big guy would be embarrassed to bargain in front of his girlfriend.
Joan paid the money. The fan vendor put the money into his bag and said, "Your girlfriend is very
pretty."
But in his mind, he was blaming foreigners like him for stealing all the beautiful women in their country.
Amanda took a fan and glimpsed at the vendor. "We’re just friends."
"I’ve misunderstood." The fan vendor smiled shyly. It turned out he had misunderstood.
He felt lucky to have not let the foreigner gain benefits.
It was almost ten o'clock, and Amanda wanted to go home. She just came back and had stayed
outside for the whole day without spending more time with her parents. It was not appropriate for her to
go back that late.
Joan said, "I'll send you home."
"It’s okay, let’s just go our way."
Amanda said.
Joan didn't force her and agreed.
The two separated. Joan took a taxi back to the hotel, but unexpectedly he saw Stanford.
Stanford was standing at the elevator’s entrance, delegating company work to Atwood. He didn't pay
attention to him who was looking this way. Joan walked towards him. "Mr. James."
Atwood looked towards him.
"What's up?"
When Stanford saw him, he responded blandly.
"Can we talk?" Joan asked.
Atwood didn't forget that he had framed Stanford in Thailand. He pulled down his face. "You have good
tricks up your sleeve, but do you think you’ll hinder us that way?"
Stanford frowned slightly. "Atwood, please leave first."
"But..."
Meeting Stanford's eyes, Atwood stopped and reluctantly went into the elevator.
"I know a quiet place." Stanford led the way. Joan followed up. They went to the business area on the
top floor. The top floor of the hotel had a very humanized design, providing a good place for those who
come to talk about business. It was highly private and quiet, which was very suitable for discussions.
Obviously, Stanford was much more familiar with City C. After talking to the hotel manager, he booked
the best private room.
The waiter brought in tea, then withdrew from there and closed the door.
"What do you want to say to me?"
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