In the hallway, the atmosphere was sowhat stagnant.
Congressman Zhao’s two bodyguards had sharp eyes, still staring at the now closed elevator door, their hands instinctively on the inside of their suits.
The old man with the red face had a slight glimr in his eyes, accompanied by so thought.
The downward indicator light of the elevator lit up, and the few people waited quietly.
"Old Dong, what’s wrong?"
The middle-aged man referred to as "Congressman Zhao" asked, his voice steady.
"Oh, it’s nothing."
The old man with the red face snapped back, shaking his head:
"The young guy in the elevator just now reminded of an old acquaintance, maybe I was mistaken."
Congressman Zhao nodded slightly, not pressing further, instead patting the old man on the shoulder, and said sincerely:
"Old Dong, I owe it all to your advice and support, and for rallying for in the legal community, that I managed to turn the tide and win this crucial round in Congress."
"I will rember this favor."
His tone was calm and asured, yet carried a convincing power.
"Congressman Zhao, you flatter . To separate the good from the bad is sothing we ought to do."
The old man quickly waved his hand, saying earnestly: "Even without , with your ability and reputation, you would have pulled through anyway."
The young assistant, who had been waiting silently by the side, seized the mont with a smile:
"Old Dong, you are too modest. The congressman often says privately that you are our Jiang Taigong and Zhang Zifang. With you around, everyone feels at ease."
This flattered Old Dong, while also highlighting Congressman Zhao’s reliance on him, making the statent flawless.
Congressman Zhao gave the assistant an approving look, then smiled and shook his head, a subtle deep aning flashing through his eyes.
At this mont, with a "ding," another elevator arrived.
The soft lighting from the ceiling of the hallway cast the dark red carpet underfoot into an even deeper shade, outlining Congressman Zhao’s lean and steady figure.
The elevator door slowly slid open, and he was the first to make a gesture of invitation, his deanor composed.
..................
The night in East Capital was a blaze of lights, with skyscrapers swiftly receding outside the window.
A black SUV drove steadily on the highway.
Fang Cheng held the steering wheel, looking focused.
In the back seat, Li Dingjian had already fallen asleep, snoring softly.
Wen Xin was also exhausted, nodding off and leaning on Zhou Xiui’s shoulder.
"Chengcheng."
Li Biyun finally couldn’t help but ask: "What happened in the elevator just now? And what about your friend surnad Ma?"
Zhou Xiui also cast a concerned glance.
"It’s nothing."
Fang Cheng’s tone was very calm:
"Those were Ma Donghe’s old classmates, just happened to run into them here."
"Initially, recognizing them made want to chat a bit, but they drank too much, so Donghe took them to a nearby hotel to settle them in."
This explanation was clearly a bit far-fetched, and Li Biyun’s eyes showed so suspicion.
However, seeing that her son didn’t want to say more, she ultimately refrained from asking further.
Zhou Xiui quietly held Wen Xin, only her gaze sweeping over Fang Cheng’s face in the rearview mirror, revealing a hint of concern in her eyes.
Fang Cheng’s hands were firmly on the steering wheel, his eyes looking out through the windshield.
Gazing at the stream of countless taillights in the distance, his eyes flickered slightly, seeming lost in thought.
anwhile, in a dark alley not far from Wangjiang Building.
This place was damp and filthy, with the stench of overflowing garbage bins mixed with the sll of cheap cigarettes, making people nauseous.
Thud, thud—
Heavy objects were continuously being thrown to the ground.
It sounded like soone was playing an extrely violent wrestling ga here.
After a few suppressed cries of pain and the dull sound of bones colliding, only heavy breathing remained in the alley.
A couple passing by the alley entrance heard the commotion inside and curiously peeked in.
Then their faces turned pale, instinctively linking arms, almost jogging away quickly, as if an evil ghost were chasing them.
Screech—
Tires screeched on the quiet street, and a black van without a license plate screeched to a halt at the alley entrance.
The car door clattered open, and several youths ard with iron bars and waterlon knives jumped out.
They wore flashy vests, with dragon and tiger tattoos on their arms, clearly not decent people.
"Boss, where are you?"
A yellow-haired youth shouted first:
"We’ve brought the gear, we’ll make sure those bastards who dared to offend Brother Cheng and you know how many eyes Lord Ma has!"
"Yeah, boss."
Another burly man followed up, saying viciously: "Just tell us which leg or arm to break, or just stab them through?"
They noisily charged into the alley, only to be stunned by what they saw.
In the darkness, a figure as burly as a bear was straddling another person, seemingly mumbling sothing.
"Damn it, what’s going on, aren’t the assassins nowadays tough enough?"
Hearing the shout, the figure stood up, turned around, and leisurely adjusted his pants.
The underlings focused their eyes, and saw two n lying on the ground.
Their clothes were in disarray, faces bruised and swollen, blood at the corners of their mouths, completely unconscious.
Taking another look at their boss, who appeared as if he’d just finished so "exercising," the underlings’ eyes beca strange, exchanging glances with each other.
Ma Donghe paid no mind to their looks, grinning wide to reveal a set of teeth that appeared especially chilling in the dark:
"Hurry up and take these two bastards back to the base, tonight I’ll personally take care of them."
He emphasized the words "take care" intending to an using torture for interrogation.
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