Warlord: Starting with Subduing Little A Qiao

"I'm busy with official duties, so I'll be leaving now."

As the consul from the country and Detective Ma walked straight out the door, the butler, Uncle Xiang, looked worried.

"Master, this..."

These two are clearly not giving Feng Jingyao any face!

At this moment, seeing this scene, Feng Jingyao's face had turned completely gloomy.

"It was clearly the police station that caused the death, yet they want me, Feng Jingyao, to take the blame? Dream on! There's no such thing as a free lunch!"

As he spoke, Feng Jingyao slammed his cane down heavily.

Ding Li, standing to the side, pondered for a moment, still trying to persuade Feng Jingyao.

"Mr. Feng, why don't we give the deceased's family some money to settle this matter properly? Otherwise, this matter may drag on indefinitely."

Ding Li's words were intended to resolve the conflict between the workers and Feng Jingyao as soon as possible, but at this moment it was as if he had stepped on Feng Jingyao's landmine, immediately causing Feng Jingyao to snort coldly.

"Don't you have a better suggestion? My money is for the living; the dead won't get a single penny from me!"

After saying that, Feng Jingyao left without looking back.

Meanwhile, on the other side, the departing consul from the United States and Detective Ma were also talking in the corridor at 5.6.

"Consul, the person who fired the shot was clearly not from our police station, so why should we take responsibility?!"

When Detective Ma first learned what had happened, he was very puzzled.

It should be noted that the police station did not send anyone to the Feng Mansion at all!

Just as he was about to send someone to explain things to Feng Jingyao, he was stopped by Mr. Peel, the consul from France.

At this moment, Mr. Peel, the consul of the country, was already thinking about the gift he had recently received.

That was the villa of my dreams, in a location where land was incredibly valuable and money couldn't buy it.

Mr. Oshima, the Japanese consul, specially sent this gift, just for one sentence.

"Just don't let Feng Jingyao know."

Mr. Peel, the consul from France, even curled the corners of his mouth at this moment.

Why not do it in the time it takes to say a few words?

Seeing that Detective Ma was still waiting for his reply, he smiled faintly.

"Don't worry about it, it has nothing to do with us!"

Chapter 121 Feng Chengcheng's identity is exposed, and the reaction of the State Council upon learning of it!

declare.

"Director, the article I wrote about the interview at the Feng Mansion a while ago is finished. Please take a look."

He Shuhuan gripped the news draft in his hand with a slightly tighter grip, and there was obvious struggle in his eyes.

The manuscript in his hand had been handled by him, Lu Erhao, and Du Fei, and had been polished repeatedly.

The three eventually stood on the same side.

They unanimously decided to report the facts they saw in front of the Feng Mansion truthfully.

At this moment, the newspaper director, seeing He Shuhuan's tense expression, couldn't help but ask a question out of curiosity.

"Shuhuan, what's wrong? Shouldn't you be relieved after submitting your manuscript? Why are you looking so worried this time?"

There's a reason the director said that.

After all, once the article is submitted, it's like a news story has come to an end, and at least you can take a good rest for a while.

But He Shuhuan has already submitted his manuscript, so why does he look so frowning?

Hearing the director's words, He Shuhuan subconsciously exchanged a glance with Du Fei beside him.

The two looked at each other, both wearing the same bitter smile.

After all, the fact that Feng Chengcheng was Feng Jingyao's daughter left a deep impression on the two of them after they left the Feng mansion.

I still haven't recovered.

At that moment, the newspaper editor did not notice their eye contact.

The newspaper director was already intently reading the manuscript in his hands, and after reviewing it, he nodded repeatedly.

This article is really well written!

The incident of Feng Jingyao colluding with the police to shoot and kill workers is described in great detail!

This further solidified Feng Jingyao's image as someone who was all show and no substance!

He glanced around the newspaper office lobby and spotted Wang Yueqi, who was engrossed in her work. He immediately raised his hand and called out.

"Yueqi, come and take a look at Shuhuan's manuscript. You know, Shuhuan's writing ability is top-notch in our newspaper. You should learn from him."

As soon as he finished speaking, Wang Yueqi, who was sitting at the desk, immediately looked up and responded with a smile.

"Okay, Director, I'm coming right away."

As she walked, the two braids tied in her hair swayed.

She walked quickly to the side of the newspaper director and respectfully took the sample manuscript from his hand.

However, upon seeing the title, her smile immediately froze on her face.

Follow-up on the protest at Feng Mansion...

She gently bit her lower lip, and as she looked down, she saw the image attached to the middle of the draft.

It was clearly a scene of a worker in front of the Feng Gong Museum with a gunshot wound to the chest and blood flowing freely!

How could Uncle Feng do such a thing?!

Is all of this true?!

Wang Yueqi could even imagine her friend Feng Chengcheng's reaction after the report was published.

If you were to be branded as someone who colludes with the police, that would be utterly infamous!

Wang Yueqi's unusual behavior also caught the eye of the newspaper director, who asked a question with a puzzled look in his eyes.

"What's wrong with Yueqi? You guys are acting strange today..."

At this moment, not only the newspaper director noticed Wang Yueqi's unusual behavior, but He Shuhuan, who was standing next to her, also looked over.

A thought flashed in his eyes as he couldn't help but recall Wang Yueqi's unusual behavior when she heard they were going to interview the Feng Mansion.

He Shuhuan immediately connected all of this together.

It's likely that Wang Yueqi already knew Feng Chengcheng's identity.

That's why they were so hesitant when they first heard that the three of them were going to interview the Feng Mansion...

At this moment, following He Shuhuan's gaze, Du Fei's mind started working quickly, and he shouted loudly as if he had just realized what was happening.

"Ah, I remember now, Yueqi, did you know Chengcheng's identity all along?"

Upon hearing this, a look of surprise flashed across Wang Yueqi's face, and she began to stammer even more.

"I...I...I..."

At this moment, Wang Yueqi's mind was in complete turmoil.

At this moment, Du Fei's words also attracted the attention of the other colleagues at the newspaper.

Everyone immediately gathered together.

"What do you mean? Does Chengcheng have another identity? Could she be the daughter of some gang boss?"

"Or perhaps she's a young lady from a prestigious family? Then I'll have to latch onto Chengcheng's coattails..."

"Chengcheng hasn't been to the newspaper office for a long time, why hasn't she come back yet?"

......

Everyone was obviously joking around, and the newspaper director also joined in.

"Yes. Stop hiding it, tell us quickly."

Seeing that Wang Yueqi's lips had been opening and closing for a long time, but she still hadn't uttered a single word, Du Fei, who could never keep a secret, immediately offered an explanation.

"Well, that day we went to the Feng Mansion to cover the protests, and we ended up seeing Chengcheng there..."

Soon, Du Fei recounted everything he had witnessed at the Feng Mansion.

As soon as he finished speaking, the newspaper director couldn't help but repeat it.

"What did you say?! Feng Chengcheng is Feng Jingyao's daughter?"

When he said this, the newspaper director's tone was full of shock, and he even staggered slightly.

Clearly, he was somewhat unable to believe this fact for a moment.

How can this be? !

At this moment, not only the newspaper director, but also his colleagues at the newspaper were shocked by the news.