The Nobel Prize Was Announced, but Not a Single Reader of This Book Won, and I'm Very Disappointed

"This workshop is pretty remote. We're already out of Xiling."

After parking by a flat patch of roadside ground, Yang Liang got out and casually remarked on the somewhat desolate surroundings.

He was already beyond the town's borders, in the surrounding village area.

The road beside them was no longer asphalt, but an old concrete road. Most of its traction grooves had worn away, and there were plenty of cracks. The ride over had been noticeably bumpy.

Still, at least it was not a dirt road.

Remember, if a village still had dirt roads these days, tossing a pack of cigarettes onto the ground and asking who dropped it could start a world war. The locals would be as wholesome as Gotham.

What they were seeing now was perfectly normal.

Lin Li, who had ultimately abandoned Yan Aosong amid Yan Aosong's sorrowful laughter and gotten into Yang Liang's car, got out as well. Hearing this, he glanced at the message on his phone and snapped his fingers. "If a counterfeit cigarette workshop were built in the middle of downtown, that would be even less reasonable."

"The most dangerous place is the safest place. Isn't that what they call being hidden in plain sight?" Yang Liang smiled, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

He personally lived by that principle.

For example, ever since his coworkers learned that his secret stash had never been discovered by his wife, they often came to him for advice. Eventually, they pried out Yang Liang's brilliant method!

—He hid his secret money in his wife's bank card!!

It was right under her nose, yet Yang Liang's wife had never noticed. To this day, she had no idea of this terrifying fact!!

It was a top-tier battle of wits on par with Zhongli faking his death. The day Yang