After our discussion, Xiaotao suggested, "Since we can’t find a place, why don’t we just create one?"

"Build an office?" asked Bingxin.

"That’s right. After experiencing this incident, I think my dad wouldn’t mind donating some money to the city bureau so we can construct another building next to this one and justifiably occupy the first floor." 

"Wow, your dad’s got deep pockets!" Bingxin flashed two thumbs up.

A few minutes later, Lao Yao rushed in, looking like an indescribable mess. His head was tangled like beach kelp after a storm, shirt buttoned incorrectly, with one foot in a shoe and the other in flip-flops. He carried his breakfast in a paper bag, gasping for air as if he had run all the way here. 

Glancing at her watch, Xiaotao remarked,...