But in the cemetery where the wind howls, apart from the symphony of the wilderness and the wind, there is no response from anyone.

"You really have the nerve to come here?" An old man with a cane walked out of the woods not far away.

The visitor was Mr. Song Zhilin, Song Hanzheng's father.

After several years, this refined and noble old gentleman had graying temples, sunken eyes, and an aura of unyielding hostility. He was completely different from the man Lu Zhiwei had first met.

"Uncle Song," Lu Zhiwei nodded politely and called out to him.

"Don't call me Uncle Song, I can't accept that title." Song Zhilin, leaning on his cane, stood opposite Lu Zhiwei.

Behind him were two well-trained and burly bodyguards.

Moreover, with Lu Zhiwei's keen observation skills, she could tell that he had brought far more than just these two people, and there must be many more hidden in the mountains and forests.

Song Hanzheng's death was a huge blow to the Song family elders.

After suffering the pain of losing her son and daughter, Song's mother, who had always been well-educated and polite, fell into a madness and became mentally unstable, hitting and cursing Song's father every day.

Later, Song's mother passed away in sorrow, leaving only Song Zhilin in the once-great Song family.

Lu Zhiwei had heard that Song Zhilin had invested all his assets in a medical base in an attempt to develop a drug to save his daughter, Song Anran.

Unfortunately, there has been no progress.

Over the long years, the old man eventually wanted to find someone who could bear his hatred so that he could keep living.

Therefore, Lu Zhiwei became his target.

"Uncle Song, the grudge between Song Anran and me shouldn't involve the child. Please release the child and let's talk this out," Lu Zhiwei pleaded with Song Zhilin.

“The child is in my base. I can have every organ in his body dissected for research. If you don’t want him to die, then gouge out your eyes and cut off your fingers in front of me… exchange your life for his.”