"Alright, I’ve got it. Make sure to preserve Wang Jianwen’s body. I’ll come by to take a look tomorrow morning," An Yiqing nodded.
After hanging up the phone, she slowly fell into contemplation. Wang Jianwen’s death was peculiar. According to An Zhiyu, he had suddenly died while talking. His face had turned purplish-blue, and it seemed like something had been strangling his neck.
Such a manner of death made An Yiqing involuntarily think of a person who hadn’t been mentioned in a long time.
That person was Aunt Zhang, who had stayed with the An Family for over a decade!
An Yiqing remembered that before Aunt Zhang died, it had happened in the same way—she was talking and then suddenly died. Could there be a connection between the two? If there was a relation between Wang Jianwen and Aunt Zhang, to what extent did that relate to the incident nineteen years ago where a baby was stolen?
An Yiqing just felt like she was surrounded by a heavy fog, falling into a bottomless black hole.
Suddenly, a large hand gently rested on her shoulder. An Yiqing slowly lifted her head to see Gu Yelin’s handsome face appear before her.
"You have me; don’t worry. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together," Gu Yelin said softly, draping his arm around An Yiqing’s shoulder.
An Yiqing’s eyes curved into a smile, and she nodded cheerfully, casting aside the gloom of just moments before.
At this point, the members of the An Family had finished dinner and were coming out of the dining room.
"What’s wrong, Niuniu? Who was on the phone?" Old Lady An asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Um, Grandma, it was a friend of mine," An Yiqing gently sat on the couch and asked in a soft voice, "Grandpa, Grandma, have you both finished eating?"
"We’ve finished, finished! Come on, let’s have a meeting," Old Master An pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose and said excitedly, "Let’s discuss Niuniu’s engagement."
When she heard this, An Yiqing blushed and gave everyone a coy look.
"Oh, our Niuniu is blushing!" Old Master An laughed heartily, teasing her.
In no time, the An Family Mansion was filled with joy and warmth.
While the An Family was enthusiastically and happily discussing the engagement, in a mysterious villa in the Xuandu Suburbs, a tall man dressed in black stood before a hunched figure seated on a couch and respectfully said, "Master, it’s failed. The one sent to kill Wang Jianwen is dead."
"Dead?" A hoarse and sharp voice came out, causing the man’s scalp to tingle, "How did he die?"
"Replying to the master, someone punched him, shattering his head, and killed him outright. Wang Jianwen’s whereabouts are now unknown. He’s likely been taken by the other party," the man said respectfully.
The room fell into silence, and the man, standing with his head bowed, felt chills running down his spine, as minutes stretched out like decades.
Finally, after a long while, the hoarse and sharp voice cut through the silence like a sharp dagger scraping glass, painfully grating.
"Go and find out exactly who it was. Let’s see who has the nerve to snatch someone from under my watch!" the sharp voice said with a venomous tone.
"Yes, Master," the man had inwardly heaved a sigh of relief, nodded respectfully, bowed slightly, and quietly retreated.
The next morning, An Yiqing got up early from bed, left the An Family Mansion, and went to the residence of the Thirteen Blood Generals.
"Miss, you’ve arrived?" An Zhifeng, with a sharp eye, spotted An Yiqing and greeted her with respect.