Chapter 92 Don't let emotions get the better of you.
He was full of quirky ideas and was a master of seizing opportunities. He had been dejected because he hadn't brought his black card, but now he had completely regained his spirited demeanor. His drooping head slowly lifted, his round little chin also tilted upward, and his whole little body straightened up.
"Please." He struggled to stand on tiptoe, lifting the shopping basket high with his little arms. It was a bit strenuous, and the chubby cheeks on his face were trembling.
Zeng Yongshan was so charmed that her heart melted: "Buy it for him, hurry up and buy it for him!"
Director Fan laughed heartily: "Since the child likes it so much, just take it."
What followed was a minor tug-of-war. Director Fan kept waving his hands, insisting on giving the money, while Zhu Qing insisted on paying, leaving the receptionist caught in the middle. In the end, Sheng Fang made a decisive move, taking the money from her niece's hand and stuffing it directly into Director Fan's pocket.
The young master was too eager to play with his new toy to wait for them to push it around.
“We have no shortage of toys here,” Director Fan said with a helpless shake of his head. “You’re too kind.”
Zeng Yongshan also silently shook her head, muttering to herself—
Don't stand on ceremony with the young tycoon's family!
The little boy, Shengfang, returned home laden with his new toys, feeling as if he were floating on clouds. As soon as he climbed into the back seat, he became incredibly well-behaved, quietly clutching his new toys, occasionally blinking his big eyes and gazing out the window, pretending to be invisible.
The two madams in the front row were intently discussing the case as the car drove through familiar streets.
In fact, Sheng Fang didn't know the way to Kadoorie Hill at all. He was determined to stay in the car until he saw the Yau Ma Tei Police Station building.
Little did anyone know that the niece understood her uncle's thoughts best; she stepped on the gas and headed straight for the Yau Ma Tei Police Station.
Pushing open the door to the CID office, his colleagues were used to Fang Sir's arrival.
"You're here?"
"Here I am!"
The two madams were going to report to Mo Zhenbang.
Before turning away, Zhu Qing asked, "And you?"
"I have my own way," Fangfang said mysteriously, patting her chest.
Then, carrying his spoils, he skillfully made his way to the door of Inspector Ong's office.
He knocked three times, then pressed down the doorknob and poked half his head inside.
"John, want to play with the new toy?"
...
The clock hands pointed to five in the afternoon, but no one was able to finish work on time.
The case files were piled up haphazardly on the workstations, and the colleagues were having a heated discussion about the latest developments in the case.
"Based on the existing clues, it can be confirmed that Wei Ansheng is Wei Feiyang, and the child is not dead at all."
"In other words, Wei Huasheng only transferred his household registration out of the country back then, but did not officially cancel it. At that time, household registration management was chaotic, and the child was only three years old at the time, so many procedures were not standardized."
"I just can't understand it anymore." Xu Jiale scratched his head and muttered to himself, "Why would you need an obituary if the person is still alive? Rich people are very particular about auspicious meanings, aren't they afraid of bad luck?"
One of the police officers chuckled, "Don't try to guess what the rich are thinking."
Zeng Yongshan pushed the case file in front of everyone, pointing her finger at the key testimony: "If it was to avoid Huang Qiulian, then it makes sense. We now suspect her of killing the victim, so the victim must have been worried that she would continue to harm the child after her release from prison. A mother who can poison her own flesh and blood... it's not surprising that she would do anything."
Uncle Li shook his head: "What kind of deep-seated hatred must there be? Ten years ago, you seriously injured the child, and now you want to kill him all ten years later?"
“The wealthy all do pretty much the same thing,” Mo Zhenbang pondered. “They either hire bodyguards at great expense or completely hide their identities. With the deceased Wei Huasheng’s wealth, it would be too easy for him to hide a child. In the end, it’s just that the father wanted to protect his child so he could grow up safely.”
“What’s so hard to understand?” Zeng Yongshan nudged Xu Jiale with her elbow. “Don’t you always read the gossip magazines I keep on my desk? Headlines like ‘Secretly Hidden Heir of a Wealthy Family’, have you forgotten them?”
As they were talking, a child walked through the corridor.
He had just received a new assignment and was on his way to the break room to serve Zhaolin tea and water. Noticing the gazes in the conference room, Fangfang suddenly stopped and turned to look at everyone, her round eyes full of curiosity.
Uncle Li gestured with his chin in his direction.
Isn't this a ready-made example?
"Go back to Inspector Weng's office," Zhu Qing said to the child.
Cute children can affect the efficiency of case handling, so it's better to let Inspector Weng take care of them.
She gestured to dismiss the little one, then steered the discussion back to the main topic: "If Wei Ansheng is Wei Feiyang, where would he be right now?"
An eleven-year-old child is neither too old nor too young.
But ultimately, it's an age when someone needs to take good care of you.
“Both grandparents have passed away,” Liang Qikai said. “It’s unlikely that the maternal grandparents are involved either. After the child abuse case, the deceased probably cut off all contact with them.”
Mo Zhenbang remained silent for a moment before assigning tasks.
"According to the household registration information, Wei Feiyang, who is also Wei Ansheng, may have been registered under the name of a relative or organization by the deceased."
“Visit people the deceased trusted, such as the driver, nanny, secretary... they may be taking care of children.”
"Go to the education department and get the enrollment records. At this age, you definitely need to go to school."
"By the way, retrieve the medical records from that year, as well as the entry and exit records from these years."
The officers all bent down to jot down key points of the investigation.
At the same time, Haozai rushed back.
“We compared the handwriting and found that the handwriting of Wei Xusheng’s six-year-old daughter did not match the handwriting on that piece of paper. The child’s mother had long been disappointed in her ex-husband, and she was not surprised at all to hear that he was involved in the case. She was just angry that he had implicated her daughter.”
"However, she felt very sorry when she mentioned the deceased Wei Huasheng, saying that she saw it in the news... She said that her older brother was a really good person and had tried his best to help them, but unfortunately Wei Xusheng was not up to the task."
Although the deceased's brother has been ruled out as a suspect, this lead still needs to be investigated thoroughly. Thinking back to Wei Xusheng's outburst at the police station demanding his inheritance, everyone couldn't help but shake their heads. That brother who always proclaimed himself "the eldest brother is like a father" now only had money in his eyes.
A new round of investigations was immediately launched.
As Xiao Sun walked out of the office, he couldn't help but sigh, "The deceased's secrecy was so thorough; they even kept it from the maid and his own younger brother whom he saw every day..."
The officers split into groups, while Zhu Qing stayed at the police station to organize information, busy with various tasks.
When she finally remembered it was time for dinner, she saw little Shengfang skipping and jumping as she followed Mr. Weng downstairs.
Fangfang sincerely said, "Thank you for spending so much!"
It wasn't the first time Weng Zhaolin had taken him out to eat, and he rolled his eyes arrogantly: "Don't give me that."
The two figures gradually disappeared into the distance.
Watching their cheerful figures, Zhu Qing couldn't help but smile before turning back to bury herself in the piles of case files.
...
The alley behind Yau Ma Tei Police Station is always bustling with activity in the evenings, with long queues forming outside the tea restaurants. Inspector Yung is a regular customer, and as soon as he arrived at the door, the sharp-eyed owner personally welcomed him in, making room for them to sit by the window in the crowded shop.
"John," Fangfang said admiringly, cupping her little face in her hands, "you're so awesome!"
These words were exactly what Weng Zhaolin wanted to hear. His lips instantly curled into an exaggerated smile, and in his smugness, he even ordered several more servings of pastries.
The main dish served to the children was char siu rice with an egg, and they also ordered a side of vegetables.
When the young master goes out to eat, he pays attention to a balanced diet. He always manages to arrange his meals perfectly.
While waiting for her food, she swung her legs and sipped her iced lemon tea, proudly boasting, "I'm the one who found the case!"
The children vividly described to their friends what happened at the toy company headquarters. From how they stood on tiptoe to find the toy train model high up, to how they helped their niece find a crucial clue...
Weng Zhaolin shook his head as he listened: "After investigating for so many days, the officers are not as clever as a three-year-old."
Shengfang immediately and solemnly extended her four chubby fingers.
"Oh? Four years old already," Weng Zhaolin remarked. "Time really flies..."
The owner served the char siu rice, topped with a golden-brown sunny-side-up egg. The yolk wasn't fully set yet; with a gentle poke, the white rice turned into golden rice.
The children held their spoons and ate the food earnestly and with great relish.
“John,” Fangfang pointed to the coffee on the table, “be careful, it’s hot.”
This sweet little face is just like an angel baby.
At first, Weng Zhaolin just watched with a smile, but gradually he started to rest his chin on his hand, and his eyes became softer and softer.
He and his wife had discussed having a child several times. But she always said that raising a child was too much trouble, and finally shut him up with the excuse that "formula is too expensive."
But looking at this well-behaved child in front of him, he suddenly felt—
What's the cost of baby formula? He's willing to pay for it!
Just as Weng Zhaolin's face was filled with a loving, fatherly smile, Sheng Fang spoke.
"John, go pack some food and take it up for everyone."
"……What?"
“My niece hasn’t eaten yet. Jiale, Uncle Li, and Yongshan will be back soon.” He counted on his chubby fingers, “And…”
Weng Zhaolin's smile froze instantly, and the corners of his mouth slowly straightened out.
Finally, he glared at the child with annoyance and got up to order.
...
The next morning, Zhu Qing and Zeng Yongshan arrived at the community center on time and received their volunteer badges from the community staff.
The two people put on their work badges as required and tidied up the hanging ropes.
Before leaving the police station, Officer Mok kept reminding them that even though the police had begun to suspect Wong Chau-lin, they did not yet have conclusive evidence and must keep a low profile.
The event was held on the lawn.
As they walked through the corridor toward the outdoor activity area, Zeng Yongshan tugged at Zhu Qing's sleeve: "You should smile. There aren't any volunteers this cold and aloof!"
Zhu Qing adjusted her expression and tried to move the corners of her mouth, but she was amused by her own stiff smile. Her lips curled up, her eyes curved slightly, and her smile became genuine and bright.
“That’s right.” Zeng Yongshan nodded in satisfaction. “It should be this radiant.”
The event took the form of a tea party, where children sat together to draw and eat snacks, guided by staff from the Children's Development Center and the Community Center to connect with nature.
Huang Qiulian is usually not seen at these kinds of events.
Huang Qiulian's criminal record was like a barrier, separating her from the children. Even on the lawn, she would only stand at a distance, silently sweeping the fallen leaves with a broom.
Zhu Qing and Zeng Yongshan exchanged a knowing glance and, under the pretext of checking the sign-in sheet, subtly approached Huang Qiulian.
They knew the details of the child abuse case by heart, and had read through the thick case file countless times, searching for any clues.
The case file clearly states that during the initial interrogation, Huang Qiulian vehemently denied all charges. It wasn't until neighbor testimonies, the on-site investigation report, and the medical examination records formed a complete chain of evidence that she was left with no room to deny the allegations. In court, her only request was to see her seriously injured child hospitalized, but the judge flatly refused on the grounds that it "could cause secondary harm."
After the verdict was announced, Huang Qiulian filed an appeal while in prison, but the second instance upheld the original verdict because no new evidence was found.
Time flies, and Huang Qiulian has been out of prison for a year now.
At this moment, she sits quietly in a corner, completely out of place with the surrounding noise. It's hard to imagine that before the child abuse case, she was a middle school teacher who spoke eloquently on the podium.
"You need to sign this again," Zeng Yongshan said kindly, handing over a form. "It's for our records."
Huang Qiulian seemed surprised that someone would speak to her.
She looked up, calmly gazing at them, and said, "I don't touch the children; I'm only responsible for cleaning."
But as the social worker said, Huang Qiulian had always been well-behaved and rarely caused trouble. After the words were spoken, she silently accepted the pen offered to her and carefully signed her name.
Zeng Yongshan then pressed for details about her whereabouts on the day of the incident.
Huang Qiulian's answer was simple: "I just changed shifts and am resting in the dormitory."
The community center provides accommodation and meals for its employees, with dormitories available in triple and double rooms.
Huang Qiulian nominally lives in a double room, but in reality she lives alone because no one wants to live with someone who has a history of child abuse.
Suddenly, a loud bang was heard.
Zeng Yongshan turned her head sharply and saw a colorful balloon being popped by a child.
A piercing scream rang out, and the autistic little girl covered her ears tightly and curled up into a ball.
The other children were also terrified and panicked, and the scene immediately descended into chaos.
Despite the staff's good training, the three of them were still overwhelmed when faced with more than a dozen frightened children with special needs.
Just then, Huang Qiulian quickly stepped forward and turned off the microphone, which was making a buzzing noise due to poor contact.
The screams gradually faded until they disappeared completely, and the world seemed to quiet down.
Huang Qiulian withdrew her hand and silently retreated to the corner.
In the latter half of the event, Zhu Qing and Zeng Yongshan assisted the staff in leading the children in games.
Their gazes kept drifting towards that quiet figure.
The morning sun shines on the lawn, making everything look vibrant and full of life.
The children, crayons in hand, left messy lines on the paper, occasionally glancing up with innocent smiles. Huang Qiulian's gaze always unconsciously followed these small figures. When a child hid a cookie in his pocket, a soft smile appeared in her eyes.
"Would she really hurt the child?" Zeng Yongshan murmured unconsciously, then dismissed the thought, as if reminding herself.
Don't let your emotions get the better of you.
Zhu Qing also looked at Huang Qiulian.
She was bowing her head slightly, letting the sunlight caress the fine lines around her eyes, and picked up the broom again to sweep up the scraps of paper on the lawn.
...
As soon as the community center event ended, Zhu Qing and Zeng Yongshan rushed back to the police station.
When I pushed open the conference room door, the case analysis meeting had already begun.
"Here are the deceased's bank account expenditure details," Xiao Sun said. "After checking all the large expenditures, they were basically all designated donations. He would make donations to the charitable organizations marked in red at fixed times every year."
“Hospital records show that the child was secretly transferred away the following year after the child abuse case,” Liang Qikai said. “It was a long time ago, and there were no records at the time. It is estimated that the death certificate was forged to prevent his ex-wife from coming after her release from prison. However, the death certificate was not standardized, so the household registration was not cancelled, and only an obituary was issued in the name of the company.”
"According to senior company officials, no memorial service was held at the time. This is in line with the customs of the deceased's hometown; when a young child dies, everything is kept simple."
Zhu Qing frowned: "Going to all this trouble just to keep it from Huang Qiulian?"
“There’s something else that’s very strange,” Haozai said. “An eleven-year-old child isn’t registered at any school. We’ve checked public and private schools, and even international schools that aren’t directly under the Education Bureau’s jurisdiction, but there’s absolutely no record of him.”
"We've also checked with people around us, like the driver and the nanny, but we have absolutely no leads."
After returning a phone call outside, Xu Jiale pushed open the door and came back inside.
“I’ve found something here.” He held up a document about a charity, “a church-run sanatorium called Sacred Heart Manor, funded by the Overseas Chinese Foundation and referred by the Deceased Charity Foundation, with long-term donations.”
He pulled out a photo that had just been faxed over: "Last year, Sacred Heart Manor organized a photography competition for its students. Among their submissions, one photo signed 'Wei Ansheng' won an award."
Everyone immediately perked up.
However, the subsequent procedures were extremely complicated. This institution was highly secluded, and the application process involved multiple levels of approval. Finally, with the coordination of the Social Welfare Department, permission was granted to enter. The condition was that no large-scale commotion could be made so as not to disturb the children inside.
When special permission for admission was granted, it was already close to closing time, and the subsequent investigation had to be completed as quickly as possible.
"Let's go." Mo Zhenbang had just stood up when Uncle Li stopped him.
"You shouldn't go," Uncle Li said. "Your physique looks like you're going to rob someone and collect protection money. If you keep a stern face, you'll scare the kids."
As he spoke, Uncle Li began calling out names: "Zhu Qing, you go."
The police officers below sat upright and solemnly.
Uncle Li glanced around and said, "Yongshan is going too."
Finally, he looked at Liang Qikai: "Qikai, come along too."
The other officers waited anxiously, only realizing that the quota was full when the three officers who had been called out began to organize their documents.
The remaining people immediately erupted in chaos.
"Seriously, officer!" Ho-jai slammed his hand on the table, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Only good-looking people are allowed to go? Is this some kind of Miss Hong Kong or Miss Hong Kong contest?"
Xu Jiale stroked his stubble, looking annoyed: "This is too unfair. I should have shaved my beard this morning."
"Who says otherwise? I didn't even use hairspray when I went out."
"I...I have a decent suit in my storage room..."
Amidst a cacophony of complaints, Zhu Qing, Zeng Yongshan, and Liang Qikai quickly evacuated.
Protests rose and fell behind him.
"This is not fair..."
"Hey boss, this is appearance discrimination!"
With a few muffled thuds, Mo Zhenbang was both annoyed and amused, and he took the folder and tapped them on the head one by one.
The group was still grumbling and looking resentful.
"Uncle Li is treating us to dinner." Haozai raised his hand timidly, then got to the point, "We need to make it up to him."
...
Inside the villa on Kadoorie Hill, Sheng Peirong sat in her study, reviewing company reports from over the years.
The sun was about to set, enveloping her in the afterglow of the sunset.
Aunt Ping hurriedly pushed open the door and came in, clutching a crumpled newspaper in her hand.
“Young Miss, look at this. I searched all five newsstands down the mountain before I found it,” Aunt Ping said breathlessly. “They said it’s a little-known newspaper, not many people have heard of it.”
"Thank you for your hard work." Sheng Peirong calmly took the newspaper and unfolded it.
She raised an eyebrow and read the headline: "Sheng Peirong has been brain dead for many years; the Sheng family has no successor—"
"Oh dear, that's auspicious! Say it again!" Aunt Ping said anxiously. "These unscrupulous tabloids should be properly regulated. They'll write anything for sales, aren't they afraid of retribution?"
“As expected.” Sheng Peirong smiled, tapping the documents on the table with her fingertip. “Sure enough, they couldn’t sit still.”
“You even went to the entrance of Shao Ye Zai Kindergarten yesterday afternoon!” Aunt Ping said.
"Looks like we haven't received any news yet."
Every step that Sheng Peirong and her lawyer predicted came true, and Pei Junyi releasing this news was just the beginning.
She remained calm and composed, casually picking up her teacup, but paused when she smelled the aroma of milk.
"milk?"
"Qingqing specifically instructed me to," Aunt Ping coughed guiltily, "saying that caffeine and strong tea can affect bone healing."
After saying that, she quickly slipped out of the study.
Sheng Peirong shook her head and chuckled, continuing to peruse the documents in her hands. Not long after, the sound of spatulas clattering came from the kitchen, and the aroma of food wafted in through the crack in the door.
On the living room carpet, he found the various chessboards his older sister had bought for him and stacked all the chess pieces together to form a castle.
When Aunt Ping brought the dishes to the table, she saw this little rascal quietly causing trouble and worried, "When will this ever be cleaned up!"
Just as it was time to eat, Sheng Peirong turned her wheelchair and passed by, glancing at the mess on the floor out of the corner of her eye, before walking around it without changing her expression.
She casually remarked, "Hopefully things will be back to normal before Coco comes back."
Shengfang's eyes widened immediately.
The eldest sister has actually learned to use her niece to blackmail him!
What's most infuriating is that this trick is incredibly effective, producing almost immediate results.
The baby, fuming, kicked her feet as she went to tidy up, accidentally kicking a chess piece under the sofa.
He lay on the ground, his short legs kicking wildly in the air, struggling to find the chess pieces.
"You're so obedient." Sheng Peirong smiled lightly. "When Coco comes back, I'll definitely praise you properly."
"Big sister," Fangfang said, crossing her arms and showing her tiny teeth, "no need!"
...
Sacred Heart Estate is nestled in a secluded mountain valley in the New Territories, offering a tranquil environment.
The police presented an official letter from the Social Welfare Department, and the security guard checked it repeatedly before allowing them to pass.
"I'm the volunteer on duty today," a middle-aged woman wearing a name tag greeted me. "The archives have prepared the relevant materials."
“We heard this unfortunate news and we can’t believe it. How could Mr. Wei…” the volunteer said softly as he walked slowly.
“An Sheng has lived here for many years.”
“When he first came here, he was only three years old. Because his condition was quite special, all the assessment reports and treatment records were kept very well.”
The volunteer opened the door to the archives and took out a heavy folder.
"The children are in the activity room. I'll take you there."
Pushing open the glass door of the activity room, the familiar melody of a children's song drifted out.
A small, thin figure sat on a cushioned chair by the window. The boy had his back to the glass door, quietly watching the swaying shadows of the trees outside, showing no reaction to the footsteps.
“Mr. Wei hasn’t come these days; An Sheng must be waiting for him.”
“Sometimes, starting after lunch and continuing until sunset, no matter how much you try to persuade them, they still won’t budge.”
"Don't underestimate him just because he's a child; he has a lot of ideas."
She took a step forward, and the police followed, though at a slower pace.
The volunteer crouched down to be at eye level with Wei Ansheng: "Ansheng, it's the older brothers and sisters from the photography association who have come to see you. They all remember the photo that won you the award last time, and they praised it for being exceptionally good."
She subtly winked at the police and continued in a lighthearted tone, "These older brothers and sisters came here specifically to see your new work."
Clearly, this kind of statement makes children feel safer.
Zeng Yongshan understood and stepped forward with a smile: "An Sheng's work, the lighting is handled perfectly—"
Her voice suddenly stopped.
The faint mark on the boy's forehead wasn't particularly menacing, but his right eye seemed veiled by a mist, his pupil unfocused. The child abuse case from ten years ago may not have left a mark on the young infant's memory, but the child, with his tiny body, forever remembered that atrocity.
Upon hearing Zeng Yongshan's words, Wei Ansheng raised his eyes.
His other eye was excessively clear, without any ripples.
Only the blurry reflection of the police officer was visible.
Zeng Yongshan rediscovered her voice: "An Sheng's works have the lighting perfectly controlled."
“His right eye is actually blind.” The volunteer took a few steps back and whispered to the two police officers, “When he fell down the stairs, the nerves in his right eye were damaged, and he became completely blind.”
“Mr. Wei always sits in this spot whenever he comes.” She pointed to the chair to the child’s left, her tone filled with tenderness, “So that the child can see his father completely with his good eye.”
The volunteer held a file folder, which recorded the child's progress every day, every month, and every year.
In the blink of an eye, Wei Ansheng had spent eight years at Sacred Heart Manor.
"Mr. Wei trusts our rehabilitation team here."
“When An Sheng first came, she couldn’t even sit still. Now she can complete simple instructions. This is remarkable progress.”
"But... he was immersed in his own world and lost his ability to speak. We tried all sorts of methods to teach him to speak, but sometimes we couldn't tell whether he was unable to speak or unwilling to speak."
Zhu Qing gazed at the boy's profile and continued, "Besides Wei Huasheng, has anyone else come to visit the child?"
The volunteer's fingers traced the metal clips on the folder: "No."
By the window, Zeng Yongshan was half-squatting, pointing to the swaying shadows of the trees outside, chatting softly with Wei Ansheng.
Zhu Qing noticed that even when Zeng Yongshan spoke almost right next to his ear, the boy's eyes remained vacant. There was no fear, no curiosity, and no response.
“Mr. Wei visits regularly, sometimes staying for three or four days,” the volunteer said gently. “Whether An Sheng is staring out the window all day or repeatedly playing with the same toy, he patiently stays with her.”
“Two years ago, Mr. Wei bought a camera for his son.” Her gaze fell gently on the boy. “An Sheng seems to like it very much and has fallen in love with photography. When the weather is nice, the father and son will take pictures of butterflies and flowers in the yard.”
The volunteer lowered her eyes: "Mr. Wei had thought everything through for the child. Several years ago, he even arranged a care plan for An Sheng after she turned twenty. At that time, we laughed at him for thinking too far ahead, but we never expected—"
Zhu Qing took out the evidence bag, which contained a photograph of the note under the prayer cushion.
"Can he write?" she asked, pointing to the handwriting in the photo.
"An amazing father?" The volunteer took the photo and examined it closely, then shook his head firmly. "Impossible, he can't write."
She handed back the evidence photos, her voice suddenly becoming hoarse: "But Mr. Wei... was indeed a remarkable father."
...
At 8:40 p.m., children were riding bicycles around in the courtyard.
He pedaled incredibly fast, the wheels crushing fallen leaves, occasionally passing a ball pit where he would plunge in, splashing up colorful balls.
Several helpers come to his home at fixed times each week, and yesterday it took them most of the day just to clean his ball pit.
Even though the ball pit was spotless, the children still couldn't muster any enthusiasm, just listlessly tossing the balls around. The fun of rolling around in the ball pit alone was nowhere near as enjoyable as playing with other children.
After rolling around in the colorful ball pit, Shengfang got back on her little bicycle.
"Aunt Ping! Aunt Ping! Help me remove the training wheels!"
"No, young master, you'll really smash it to pieces..."
"Then let me beat him up!"
Little Fangfang rode his tricycle as if he could fly, completely oblivious to the world around him.
He argued with Aunt Ping for a long time, almost to the point of rolling around on the lawn in a pitiful and unreasonable manner.
Just as things were at a stalemate, the doorbell rang suddenly, interrupting the young master's whining.
Aunt Ping went to open the door, but froze instantly when she saw who it was.
Pei Junyi and the three directors smiled warmly, while the other man in a suit was a complete stranger.
“Aunt Ping is truly a loyal old servant.” Pei Junyi stepped through the door, his gaze sweeping across the courtyard. “From the old house to Mid-Levels, then to Yau Ma Tei, and now to Kadoorie Hill, you’ve always been here.”
The people behind him laughed along.
Checking their address is a piece of cake for them. A naive child and a policeman with no connections, the uncle and nephew may own luxury cars and mansions, but they can't cause any other trouble.
Pei Junyi nodded to the man in the suit.
The other party immediately took a document out of his briefcase and handed it to him.
Pei Junyi walked up to Sheng Fang and said in a gentle tone, "This authorization letter needs to be signed. For the time being, the board of directors will handle the group's affairs."
He glanced at the senior board member and lawyer behind him: "I specifically invited them here to explain the terms clearly."
Fine beads of sweat appeared on the foreheads of several veteran directors.
Taking advantage of someone's misfortune like this goes against the principles of the older generation. But since Sheng Wenchang's death, the Sheng family business has been in turmoil, and the board of directors only recognizes Sheng Peirong. Now that even she is no longer effective, who will risk their life for a child?
Fangfang poked at the file with her finger: "What's this?"
Pei Junyi reached out to touch his head, but the child nimbly dodged with a foot pedal.
The lawyer immediately stepped forward and began explaining a series of technical terms. Pei Junyi took over the conversation, and finally, the three directors took turns adding their remarks.
The young master of the Sheng family shook his head vigorously: "I don't understand."
"Do you want my autograph?" He looked up, his expression innocent.
“Of course not.” Pei Junyi’s lips curled up slightly. “Your guardian needs to sign it, and the lawyer will explain it to her in detail.”
"She's working overtime."
Pei Junyi was visibly taken aback, clearly not expecting this answer.
He quickly adjusted his expression: "Then we can wait."
"I can find another adult to sign for you." Sheng Fang tilted his head and thought for a moment, then said in a childish voice, "Aunt Ping!"
"Young master," Aunt Ping said, suppressing a laugh, "how could I possibly sign documents from your large corporation?"
Several people burst into loud, deep laughter, and the atmosphere became relaxed and pleasant for a moment.
Sheng Fang rode her bicycle around in a circle and said in her still-childish voice, "Then let my older sister sign it."
The laughter stopped abruptly.
Everyone stiffly turned around following his gaze, gasping in shock.
In front of the floor-to-ceiling window, the moonlight outlined Sheng Peirong's sharp features.
Shengfang pedaled her tricycle, executed a smug and skillful drift, and brought the bicycle to a steady stop next to the older woman.
Still laughing? You can't be that stupid when you're playing a villain!
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