Mo Jue’s crisp yet aggrieved voice sent a jolt through Li Yan’s heart. He couldn’t quite place the feeling, but it was definitely weird.
Li Yan grabbed the collar of her jacket, forcibly pulled her away from his embrace, and gently smacked the back of her head, "Stand properly for me."
Having not seen his sidekick for a while, Li Yan wondered how she had become so clingy.
He had no idea who she learned that from, daring to hug him like that.
Two grown men, hugging and cuddling, how improper!
Mo Jue, yanked away by him, wasn’t angry. Instead, she took two steps forward with a grin, tugged on Li Yan’s trench coat, and looked up at him with a bright smile, "Boss, did you miss me?"
Li Yan cleared his throat and looked down at the petite Mo Jue, who was pulling at the hem of his coat with one hand and nervously clenching a small fist with the other. In particular, those black, almond-shaped eyes shone brightly, reflecting his own image clearly.
His heart was struck, turning into a soft, sour mess.
Gently stroking Mo Jue’s head in a way one would pet an animal, Li Yan finally noticed just how short she was, barely reaching his chest.
Perhaps because Mo Jue always followed him like a little tail, Li Yan had never taken much notice of her height.
Thus, after a sweeping glance, he teased her with a shallow smile, "You’re so short, are you even five feet tall?"
The joy of their reunion shattered into pieces.
Bitting her lip, Mo Jue stood on tiptoes and lifted her chin, not very convincingly, "I’m five feet one, which rounds up to five feet eight."
Ah, the same old Mo Jue he knew well.
Li Yan was actually very happy, but he still put on the boss’s act, straightening his trench coat and putting his hands in his pockets, puffing out his chest, "Come on, tell me, where has my sister been hiding you these days?"
After a while, Mo Jue dragged Li Yan to an umbrella by the lake and sat down. She looked around, then hopped over to a bodyguard, talking and gesturing. The bodyguard twitched his mouth and nodded, replying in a low voice.
Li Yan crossed his legs and watched this scene, frowning slightly—it didn’t feel very comfortable.
He could tell that the bodyguard’s attitude was respectful, with a smile in his eyes, even hinting at an indulgent tone.
Doesn’t this bodyguard know he’s overacting?
Li Yan had no idea that during her time at the manor, Mo Jue had already become chummy with many of the bodyguards and servants.
They all knew she had a special relationship with the lady of the house, and moreover... Luoyu had even called her Miss Mo.
Before long, Mo Jue returned to the umbrella, fiddling with her fingers uncomfortably, "Boss, the front yard is sealed off. We might have to stay somewhere else for a few days."
Li Yan narrowed his eyes, "What’s wrong with the front yard?"
Mo Jue waved her hand, speaking very casually, "Nothing serious. It seems they found a batch of arms in the kitchen."
Some ’nothing serious’ that is.
Just like that, Li Yan didn’t get a chance to tour the interior of Paibo Manor. In less than five minutes, he was pulled onto a car by Mo Jue.
The bodyguard drove away from the back yard, following the address provided by Li Qiao, heading towards the center of the city.
In the car, Mo Jue rattled off her recent experiences like a machine gun.
Li Yan studied Mo Jue with narrowed eyes, pondering, "Why is my sister so good to you?"
Not only could she escape international police pursuit, but she also got a new identity for her.
His impression of Qiaoqiao was that of someone too lazy to care, and yet she bothered with these matters?
Mo Jue pursed her lips with her eyes darting around. Oops, seeing the boss in high spirits, it seemed she had said too much.
Li Yan chuckled dangerously, tugging at her ear as he sinisterly questioned, "What have you done to my Qiaoqiao?"
In pain, Mo Jue grabbed his wrist with a wrinkled face, pitifully saying, "Ouch ouch ouch, Boss, it hurts."
Li Yan let go of her ear, straightened his collar, leaned back in his chair, and with his legs crossed, he forcefully warned, "From now on, behave yourself. Qiaoqiao is helping you for my sake, remember to be grateful, got it?"
"Got it, got it," Mo Jue nodded energetically, "Boss, I found a painting for you, it seems to be by Monet."
Li Yan feigned depth with a cough, giving Mo Jue a sidelong glance, "Have you forgotten what I told you?"
Clutching the hem of his clothes, Mo Jue leaned in and said, "Hey, it’s not stolen, it’s from Master Yan’s home, my ancestor said it was given to me."
Li Yan licked the corner of his mouth, and two seconds later, suddenly leaned in close to Mo Jue, "Is it really a Monet?"
Front row bodyguard: "..."
On the way to the apartment, he watched as the two heads in the backseat huddled together, discussing various famous paintings in the attic of the manor.
During the journey, Mo Jue even triumphantly took out a notebook and handed it to Li Yan.
He had never seen a boss so unserious in his life.
Elsewhere, at Parma Police Department Headquarters.
Qin Song sat in the interrogation room, drinking water non-stop, his eyes glancing at the composed and indifferent man across from him, with a look of utter despondency.
Two investigators from the Security Bureau sat beside him, also wearing grim expressions.
Due to the particular nature of the case, the three were forced to be questioned separately.
Qin Song cleared his throat and flipped open the evidence file on the table, which was filled with a large number of photos of weapons just taken in the manor.
He pushed the photos forward suggestively and asked, "Mr. Shang, were you aware of these weapons in the kitchen beforehand?"
Leaning back in his chair, Shang Yu crossed his legs and rubbed his fingertips on the armrest, his thin lips slightly parted as he responded, "Hmm."
Qin Song scratched his head and wrote down ’Hmm’ on the record.
He continued to probe, "What was the source for purchasing the weapons?"
If he could provide a purchase permit, there would be a way to help him overturn the case.
Then, Shang Yu looked up at Qin Song, his voice low and resonant with a magnetic quality, "It’s our own branded manufacture."
Qin Song looked at him expressionlessly: "..."
At that moment, a member of the Security Bureau tapped the table, "Does your factory have a permit for scientific research and production of weapons equipment?"
The man gave a cold glance, curled his lips, and remained silent with indifference.
They were no longer surprised by this kind of situation.
The interrogation had been going on for half an hour, and except for responding to Qin Song’s questions, Shang Yu consistently ignored the inquiries from the other two men.
In the next room, Li Qiao, with a similarly uncooperative attitude, caused the questioning officer a great deal of frustration.
Wei Lang, on the other hand, was very cooperative. Not only did he surrender his gun, but he also disassembled its parts, pointing to the numbers on the components and meaningfully saying, "These are the production numbers, I hope they’re of help to you."
The officer walked away with a pile of gun parts and successively reported all their statements.
By noon, the firearm production numbers were traced back to the Parma Armament Factory.
The officers at the Police Department Headquarters, including Qin Song, were all dumbfounded.
In the afternoon meeting room of the police station, the heads of the Headquarters, the Security Bureau, the Customs Bureau, and Customs Enforcement formed a special task force and sat in a circle for discussion.