Zhou Minhai's smile instantly froze on his face.
They originally thought the Xu family was just a fat sheep to be slaughtered, and that after taking down Cheng Muyun, they could easily squeeze out some profit.
Little did anyone expect that this family had a double insurance policy – with Cheng Muyun, who held military power, in charge, and Chen Hede, who was in cahoots with the French, also appeared!
Cold sweat trickled down his back and into his collar, and he realized with a start that the "fat" in front of him was clearly a hedgehog covered in steel needles.
No wonder they managed to keep the eastern route to the south; they were very careful and cunning.
It turned out that his own daughter had gotten involved with Chen Hede. No matter how meticulous Zhou Minhai was, he would never have thought of this.
“Deputy Director Chen is joking,” Zhou Minhai said with a forced smile, his eyes as cold as ice. “I am merely inviting Young Marshal Cheng to the Military Intelligence Bureau for a reunion; I have absolutely no intention of making things difficult for him.”
Chen Hede let out a sneer, his leather shoes scraping the ground with a harsh sound, and slowly walked to Cheng Muyun's side.
His slender, phoenix-shaped eyes swept lightly over Xu Zhuohua's pale face before he casually sat down in the armchair, his back relaxed as if he were in his own living room.
"Tea from the Military Intelligence Bureau?" He tapped the armrest with his fingers, the rhythm so slow it was almost provocative.
"I've heard that the tea here is boiled with blood, and that one sip can corrode your bones?"
Zhou Minhai's temples throbbed, and he dug his nails deep into his palms to barely maintain a smile: "Deputy Director Chen, this is quite a joke... The tea in the Military Intelligence Bureau is no different from anywhere else. I drink it every day; it's fragrant and has a sweet aftertaste."
"Is that so?" Chen Hede suddenly crossed his legs, his leather boots lightly tapping the ground, his gaze sweeping over the tense crowd in the room, a dangerous smile playing on his lips.
"Then there's no time like the present, I want to taste this 'fine tea' myself."
The room fell silent as soon as the words were spoken.
Xu Zhuohua subconsciously gripped the hem of her skirt, her fingertips trembling slightly—Chen Hede's action seemed reckless, but in reality, it concealed a hidden edge.
Looking at the figure leaning lazily against the back of the chair, she suddenly realized that this confrontation was far more thrilling than it appeared on the surface.
A flicker of surprise crossed Zhou Minhai's face, but he quickly regained his composure. "What does Deputy Director Chen mean by this?"
Chen Hede raised an eyebrow and said, "Didn't Special Envoy Zhou want to find the seized weapons? They're in my hands."
Zhou Minhai clenched his fists. "How is that possible?"
Chen Hede spread his hands, "What's impossible? The French didn't like the Japanese and were afraid that this batch of weapons would cause trouble in Xinhai City, so they only withheld a small amount. Who knew the Japanese wouldn't be happy and would cling to Young Marshal Cheng."
Xu Zhuohua dug his fingertips into his palm, and the cheer in his throat almost burst out of his mouth.
Chen Hede's "switching flowers and grafting trees" tactic was truly brilliant!
Cheng Muyun did not keep the batch of weapons, but transferred them to the organization in the southwest through Chen Hede. However, Chen Hede, the person who was supposedly in charge, was also involved in a delicate interest with the French.
Zhou Minhai's face was colder than the frost of winter.
He certainly didn't dare to really provoke the French, but if he gave up now, he wouldn't be able to explain it to his superiors.
Continuing the investigation would only backfire—Chen Hede's few casual words turned the deadlock of "Cheng Muyun embezzling arms" into a hot potato of "conflict of interests between the Japanese and the French."
"Special Envoy Zhou thinks," Chen Hede's fingertips traced the brass ornament on the chair armrest, his voice trailing off, "that Mr. Chen seems like the kind of person who would joke about something like this?"
The air pressure inside the room was so low that you could almost wring water out of it.
Xu Zhuohua saw Zhou Minhai's Adam's apple bob violently twice, and his previously stiff smile completely froze into ice.
At this point, further investigation would be a dead end—he ultimately dared not gamble that the French would break ties with the Military Intelligence Bureau over this "unclear" weaponry.
Chen Hede gently swirled the teacup between his fingertips, causing ripples to spread across the amber-colored tea. He then lowered his head and took a sip.
With a satisfied smirk, he said, "Xu's Longjing tea is still to my liking—Special Envoy Zhou, why don't you try some?"
Xu Jixin immediately frowned and scolded the maid who was standing to the side with her hands at her sides, "Are you so short-sighted? How long has Special Envoy Zhou been here, and the teacup is still empty?"
These words were ostensibly a reprimand to the subordinates, but in reality, they were a veiled insult—a special envoy of such high rank couldn't even wait for a cup of tea; he truly lacked "tact."
Zhou Minhai's face turned pale and then flushed, and the veins on the back of his hands bulged. In the end, he suppressed his anger and raised his hand in a gesture of resignation: "No need. I have official business to attend to, so I will take my leave now."
"Take care." Xu Jixin casually lifted the cotton curtain, and a cold wind rushed into the hall. He leaned lazily against the door frame and tapped the door sill with his fingertips. "It's freezing outside, so we won't see you off—Special Envoy, be careful not to slip."
Zhou Minhai gritted his teeth, and as he strode out the door with a flick of his sleeve, he looked disheveled. The force of his boots crushing the threshold seemed to be extinguishing the embers of his heart.
Despite coming with great fanfare, they gained absolutely nothing.
Zhou Minhai must be furious.
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