The man curled his lips into a smile: "Same group as the last explosion case." "I think so too. Although there’s no solid evidence, according to the latest intel, that group has secretly infiltrated Country Hua, intending to cause trouble. The higher-ups have sent someone down here, precisely to capture these dangerous individuals." "Who?" The man’s voice was deep, like the beating of a war drum. "You know them, Young Master of the Yan Family," Changsheng said in a low voice. The man was surprised for a moment, then chuckled lightly: "So it’s him. Among this generation of the Yan Family, only he can hold up the family’s reputation." "Indeed, Young Master, this Master Yan is extraordinary, now he’s already become..." Changsheng made a gesture. The man raised his eyebrows, "Quite so, heroism in youth. With him, the Yan Family can still thrive for another generation." The door suddenly opened from the inside, and Ah Yun, who was sleeping against it, fell backward but was supported by a hand. She lifted her blurry eyes, and in the backlit morning sun, saw a beautiful and gentle face. She was stunned for an instant and quickly jumped up. "Miss." The source of this content ɪs novel⚑fire.net Yun Ya frowned: "Did you sleep here all night?" Ah Yun tugged at her wrinkled dress, hung her head in shame, and said: "Miss... I’m sorry." Yun Ya sighed, and Ah Yun peeked up to see the eyes warmer than the spring sun. "Go back and have a good rest." The Miss seemed very normal, as if last night’s crying was all a dream. She instinctively frowned, wanting to ask something, but afraid of upsetting her, she shook her head and said: "I’m not tired, Miss, you don’t have to worry about me." Yun Ya said nothing more and went downstairs for a run. No matter how much sorrow and pain, life must go on. Dry the tears, sleep a little, and she’s still the fearless Ji Yunya. Eagle reports that Jiang Mi’er hasn’t shown any unusual behavior, going to work and clubbing as usual, flirting with men. After two days of surveillance, no suspicious signs have been found on her. Is she hidden too deep or is his intuition wrong? Yan Song gazes at Jiang Mi’er’s photo. No, he’s definitely met this woman somewhere before. That familiar, dangerous feeling... "Continue monitoring, focus on checking the people around her." As night falls, in a nightclub, laser lights flash incessantly, heavy metal music deafeningly loud, in the pools of alcohol and forest of meat, young men and women dance closely to the rhythm. The atmosphere is rife with decadent promiscuity. A single beautiful woman can always attract more attention, especially the one sitting at the bar drinking one glass after another. Just a silhouette could practically steal a man’s soul. "Hi beautiful, are you alone?" A gentlemanly elegant man smiles to strike up a conversation, eyes scanning up and down the woman’s body like a searchlight, unable to hide the desire lurking beneath. The woman slightly lifts her gaze, that glance full of charm... The man gasps a breath of cold air. The woman seems slightly drunk, suddenly laughs, her face as gorgeous as blooming peony, suddenly beckons the man with a finger, the man immediately approaches, eyes glued. The woman circles a hand around his neck, almost hanging all over him: "So hot, you’re so cool, comfortable..." The woman’s soft body gently rubs against him, the man inhales deeply, hands wandering over her back, eyes flashing with wolf-like gleam, wishing to consume the woman in his arms. Hooking up, the two move upstairs to a paradise prepared for guests indulging in a night of passion. As soon as they enter the room, "Bang," the door slams shut, and like tinder igniting, they "crackled" into flames, strewn clothes from the entrance to the big bed, dresses, lingerie, panties, all scattered. The temperature gradually rises. "What a stunner..." The man comfortably sighed, just about to go further, suddenly rolled his eyes, and collapsed limp as a duck on top of her. The woman’s lustful gaze instantly fades, a coldness sweeping across her face, she scoffs lightly, kicks the man off onto the floor, pulls up a bedsheet around herself, and looks up at the woman stepping out from the bathroom. The woman is wearing a bathrobe, petite and delicate, her face flushed from steam like an apple, vivid like a flower, especially her eyes—unmistakable in their crescent-shaped smile, sweet and full of girlhood. "Sis, aren’t you afraid President Yam will get jealous?" The girl giggled, covering her mouth. "Heh... he wouldn’t dare." "Ah, in this world, aside from big brother, no one can escape from your grasp, right? As a woman, doesn’t it make you feel unaccomplished?"