Zuo Fanrui was well-connected, as evidenced by his current position and influence, but Tigress Zuo was no slouch when it came to her personal network of friends and acquaintances either. She found the current whereabouts of the homewrecker almost immediately, and wasted no time in buying a plane ticket to get to the set where Xiao Rongrong’s show was being filmed. She left Zuo Fanrui in the hospital, not caring whether he lived or died; she was now obsessed with the thought of avenging herself on the despicable vixen. She swore on her name and family honor that she would expose Xiao Rongrong for the shameless slut that she was.
Lu Yi knew what Tigress Zuo was up to, but he did not care. He would indict Zuo Fanrui; everything else was none of his concern. He had only investigated Zuo Fanrui because he had tried to ice Yan Huan, and once Lu Yi realized that Zuo Fanrui had broken the law several times with his flagrant abuse of power, well, it was time for Zuo Fanrui to pay for his crimes.
Just then, Li Changqing was reviewing the report he had just received. He had to cancel all of the acting jobs he had arranged for Yan Huan and get other actresses to replace her for her celebrity endorsement deals. He had also been forced to return several promising movie scripts that had been offered to Yan Huan, on the vague pretext that she “would not be available.” As soon as he finished the arrangements, he was overcome with mental and spiritual exhaustion.
He was still trying to think of the best way to break the news to Yan Huan.
It was cruel news to break to a young, 21-year-old woman. Many actors and actresses had been iced over the years—it was nothing new—but somehow, he could not bear the thought of letting such a lively, promising talent such as Yan Huan to go to waste. But Li Changqing knew Yan Huan’s fate had been sealed—she had offended someone important, and she did not have anyone powerful to back her.
He looked up Yan Huan’s number. It was dinner time; he was sure that Yan Huan would be able to take his call if he called her now.
He entered Yan Huan’s number, but chickened out of calling. He repeated this a few times; finally, after a long struggle with himself, he let out a long sigh and entered the number again. He was about to press the Call button when his desk phone suddenly rang, catching him by surprise. It was so unexpected he almost dropped his phone to the floor.
He did a double-take when he saw the strange caller number: the number actually ended with 123456. Who on earth could be using such a unique, flashy number?
“Hello.” Li Changqing made sure to sound polite and respectful; anyone who possessed a phone number like that was quite clearly not an ordinary person. There were only a few possibilities: an immensely wealthy person who had bought the number, someone from the mafia, or a high-ranking official from the government.
“Am I speaking to Manager Li Changqing?” The voice that enunciated Li Changqing’s name clearly and correctly was deep and pleasant to listen to.
“Yes. Who is this?” Li Changqing was quite sure he did not know the voice on the other end of the line. He did not recognize the strange phone number, either.
“This is Lu Yi.” Lu Yi was sitting on his sofa, caressing Little Bean’s head with his fingers. The cat was drowsy on his lap, and finally put her head down to sleep, content with the attention given to her.
Lu Yi? Li Changqing was momentarily stunned. Lu Yi? Which Lu Yi?
He could not possibly be talking to that famous Lu Yi, could he?
But Li Changqing could only think of the Lu Yi from the Lu family—the youngest, most famous prosecutor in Sea City, the man who struck fear in everyone’s hearts. But why was Lu Yi calling him? Li Changqing broke into a cold sweat; everyone said expect the worst if Lu Yi initiated contact.
“Is this Prosecutor Lu?” he asked cautiously, hoping that the answer would be “no.”
“Yes, that’s me.”
Li Changqing’s expression froze at Lu Yi’s reply. He wondered if he had somehow run afoul of the law.
