But all the emotions within were quickly hidden.
"Tuo, he's good-looking, a handsome guy, worthy of my Xiaoyou."
"Master, how can people be so superficial?"
"Aren't you attracted by this appearance?"
Jiang Ciyou's face turned red instantly.
There are so many people.
Jiang Ciyou coughed and quickly changed the subject.
"Master, we came here yesterday to verify an old story."
When he said this, Jiang Ciyou's face unconsciously became serious.
Zhao Wuming seemed to have guessed something.
But he seemed unwilling to talk about the past.
"Xiaoyou, I'm already old, with one foot in the grave. It's better not to talk about those old things."
Jiang Ciyou simply came straight to the point and didn't give Zhao Wuming a chance to escape.
"Master, you didn't kill any of the 38 people in the Shangguan family, did you?"
When Zhao Wuming heard about the Shangguan family, his expression changed slightly.
He was silent for a moment, then turned around and said, "So what if it's me? So what if it's not me? Everything in this world is determined by fate. Whether it's shallow or deep, everyone suffers for others."
Jiang Ciyou dropped another 1-pound bomb.
"Master, the thirty-eight members of the Shangguan family weren't killed by Bo Haiquan. You both think you've taken the blame for each other's sins. Have you ever considered that this is all just a joke of fate?"
Zhao Wuming's previously unruly face suddenly became serious.
The clear eyes also changed instantly.
"What did you say?"
Jiang Ciyou saw his master's incredible expression and knew that there must be a misunderstanding.
"Two years ago, you asked me to bring a blood letter to Mr. Bo. I gave it to him last night. He was shocked when he saw it and said everything was wrong. Later, after we questioned him, we found out that for so many years, he had always believed that you had carried out the mission for him that year. He thought you were the one who killed more than 30 people in the Shangguan family."
Zhao Wuming's eyes were dark and heavy, as if they were being pressed down by a huge mountain.
"how so?"
"Master, what exactly happened that night? Why did you say you were carrying out a mission for him? And why did you think he was the one who killed Shangguan's entire family?"
Zhao Wuming sat back on his rocking chair.
But he no longer has the carefree attitude he had before.
Zhao Wuming did not answer Jiang Ciyou's question.
He simply asked, "Where is the Lone Wolf?"
"The old man is waiting for you in the study."
Outside the Bo family study.
This was actually not the first time Zhao Wuming had set foot in this place.
He knew that Bo Haiquan had finally trapped him here.
He has actually been here many times this year.
But I didn't go to see him after all.
The door to the study was open.
The old man stood with his back turned.
Looking at a calligraphy on the wall.
Hearing the sound of knocking at the door, he turned around immediately.
Then, he saw Zhao Wuming standing at the door.
The two old men stood there quietly, looking at each other without saying a word.
But their eyes were red in an instant.
Bo Jinxiu was shocked.
Because in his memory, the old man was upright and had never shed a tear.
At least she never showed any sign of vulnerability in front of her children.
But now, tears welled up in his eyes, his lips trembled slightly, and after a long time he uttered a word: "Gu Ying, how did you become so old?"
Zhao Wuming now has a head full of white hair.
But apart from that, he looks much younger than the average old man.
He stands straight and looks vigorous.
He was not tall and was rather thin. He was wearing a Zhongshan suit and looked very frail.
But anyone who practiced martial arts could see that he was agile and his steps were silent. Perhaps even Xiao Qinglin was not his opponent.
Zhao Wuming sighed, "Speaking of me, how far can you go? Look at the wrinkles on your face, they could be used as musical notation."
Zhao Wuming's words brought the originally sad atmosphere to a halt.
He went in immediately.
He chose a mahogany sofa and sat down: "It's comfortable, it's comfortable. This sofa must cost at least 20,000 yuan."
As he spoke, he scratched at it with his fingernails, trying to see if it was authentic rosewood.
The housekeeper beside him was so distressed that he wanted to roll his eyes. This was a Huanghuali Dabaoding sofa, which the old man had bought for more than 200 million yuan.
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