Republic of China, 1922: Rise from the Post-Zhili-Fengtian War

"Everyone!" Mo Dehui's voice was hoarse but loud. He raised his hands and gestured towards the crowd. "I am Mo Dehui, from the Provincial Finance Department! Minister Min already knows about Chairman Lu's matter, and so do I!"

Someone in the crowd recognized him and lowered their voice slightly.

Mo Dehui wiped the sweat from his brow and said solemnly, "Commander Gu's audit was handled by me, and it was also approved by Duke Min—"

Furthermore, Commander Gu was investigating the materials at the main construction site, not targeting Chairman Lu personally. The accounting had only just begun, and no conclusions had been reached yet. How could Commander Gu possibly drive Chairman Lu to his death? What benefit would he gain from doing so? Driving Chairman Lu to his death would mean losing the most important witness.

His gaze swept across the crowd as he continued, "I, Mo Liuchen, have served in the Fengtian Provincial Government for many years. You can all go out and ask around about my character. I'm putting my words out there today—"

"Chairman Lu's death has nothing to do with Commander Gu! I will personally oversee this matter and give you all an explanation within three days!"

The middle-aged man in the silk robe persisted, "Mr. Liu Chen, you think it's okay just because you say it's not a problem? The will is right here—"

"Whether the suicide note is genuine or not hasn't been verified yet!" Mo Dehui interrupted him sternly. "Chairman Lu is dead. Are you here to seek justice, or to cause trouble? If you're here to seek justice, wait three days while we investigate; if you're here to cause trouble—"

He didn't finish his sentence, but his expression clearly carried a hint of coercion.

The middle-aged man stared wide-eyed for a long time, racking his brains for a rebuttal, when a commotion suddenly arose from the back of the crowd.

A black sedan slowly drove up and stopped on the outskirts of the crowd.

The car door opened, and a pale, thin hand reached out first, holding onto the door frame.

Wang Yongjiang, dressed in a dark blue long gown, his face as pale as paper, slowly got out of the car with the help of his daughter, Wang Yuyou.

His steps were unsteady, each step seeming like a struggle against his own body, yet his eyes remained sharp as knives, slowly sweeping across the dark mass of people.

Everyone was stunned.

In Jinzhou, everyone knows Wang Yongjiang.

The provincial governor of Fengtian Province has been stationed in Jinzhou for two months, working tirelessly to procure food and supplies and appease the people. He holds a very high position in the hearts of the people.

But news of his serious illness and bedridden state had already spread throughout the city, and no one expected him to appear here.

Mo Dehui was also startled and quickly stepped forward to help him: "Min Gong! Why are you here? The doctor said you shouldn't be exposed to the wind—"

"If I don't come, how do you plan to end this?" Wang Yongjiang's voice was hoarse and low, but everyone, including Gu Cheng, could feel his imposing aura.

He pushed Mo Dehui's hand away and walked step by step toward the steps.

The crowd automatically parted to make way.

Wang Yongjiang walked over to Gu Cheng and stood beside him.

He and Gu Cheng exchanged a quick glance, their gazes falling on the dense crowd below the stage. After a moment of silence, he slowly spoke.

"I already know about Chairman Lu's matter." His voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached everyone present. "Three days. Give me three days, and I will definitely get to the bottom of this."

When the time comes, whoever is responsible will be held accountable. In all my years in Fengtian, I, Wang Yongjiang, have never wronged an innocent person, nor have I let a guilty person go unpunished.

At this point, he scrutinized the middle-aged man in the silk robe, as if speaking only to him, "If you do not trust me, Wang Yongjiang, you may stay now. If you do trust me, then you may leave."

The audience was silent.

The middle-aged man cupped his hands in a gesture of respect and did not object.

Wang Yongjiang's name carries weight.

The crowd began to slowly disperse.

Some whispered among themselves, some shook their heads and sighed, and some helped the weeping Lu family members leave silently.

Before leaving, the white-haired old man cupped his hands in a gesture of respect to Wang Yongjiang, who nodded slightly in response.

Gu Cheng remained standing beside Wang Yongjiang without speaking or backing away.

He watched the crowd gradually disperse, but felt no relief whatsoever.

Lu Shoulian is dead, and the trail has gone cold.

The suicide note was fake, but the people believed it.

Some people want to use this incident to nail Gu Cheng to the pillar of shame for "forcing the chamber of commerce president to his death".

Gu Cheng watched the dispersing crowd, his mind racing:

Li Maogang confessed that Lu Shoulian had dealings with the Japanese, and that the substandard materials at the Daying construction site were also transported from Dalian Port by the Kwantung Army. Lu Shoulian died at this time.

What a coincidence!

Could it be... that they were silenced by those Japanese?

Harukami Yumi.

The name suddenly came to mind: that woman killed two of his brothers, and now Lu Shoulian's death was most likely related to her as well.

Killing two birds with one stone—what a ruthless tactic!

He was lost in thought when he suddenly heard Wang Yuyou exclaim in surprise, "Father—!"

Gu Cheng turned around abruptly and saw Wang Yongjiang sway and fall forward.

He reacted quickly, stepping forward and firmly supporting Wang Yongjiang's arm.

But Wang Yongjiang was so weak that his entire weight pressed down on him. Gu Cheng didn't have time to adjust, and his other hand instinctively braced itself to the side—his palm touched a slender and soft wrist.

Wang Yuyou was holding onto her father's other side with both hands when Gu Cheng pulled her off balance, causing her to stumble half a step and almost crash into his arms.

Gu Cheng instinctively tightened his arm to steady her.

Their eyes met, so close they were almost touching.

Wang Yuyou's cheeks flushed instantly, burning from her ears all the way down to her neck, like a peach blossom just beginning to bloom in spring.

She hurriedly lowered her head, her eyelashes fluttering a few times, and frantically pulled her wrist out of Gu Cheng's grasp. She took a half-step back, her voice barely audible, "Commander Gu, thank you..."

Gu Cheng was also taken aback, the soft touch still lingering in his palm.

But he quickly composed himself, took Wang Yongjiang's arm, and said in a deep voice, "Min Gong, let's go inside and rest for a while."

Wang Yongjiang waved his hand, took a few breaths, his face as white as paper, but he still managed to stand firm.

He glanced at his daughter's flushed cheeks, then at Gu Cheng, his gaze sweeping back and forth between the two of them. He hesitated, wanting to say something but ultimately just sighed.

"Let's go inside and talk." His voice was hoarse, carrying a hint of weariness that was hard to describe.

Gu Cheng helped him slowly walk into the brigade headquarters, with Mo Dehui and Yang Song following closely behind.

Wang Yuyou followed at the back with her eyes lowered, the blush on her face still lingering, her heart pounding like a little deer.

In the side hall, Yang Song had already prepared hot tea.

Gu Cheng helped Wang Yongjiang sit down and then personally handed him a teacup.

Wang Yuyou stood beside her father, her gaze secretly sweeping over Gu Cheng. Seeing that he looked perfectly normal, as if his momentary loss of composure had never happened, she felt a strange and inexplicable sense of loss welling up inside her.

She bit her lip, inwardly cursing herself for overthinking, and quickly looked away to focus on taking care of her father.

Wang Yongjiang took a sip of hot tea, leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes to rest for a moment, and then slowly opened his eyes to look at Gu Cheng.

"What do you think of Lu Shoulian's death?" His voice was low.