With elders here, a few females will feel much more at ease. No matter what, Wang Huayun will not let his son be put to death. Just an explanation, it does not necessarily mean that human lives should be used to explain it. Money, resources and any other interests can be used to explain it.

They were unable to meet Liu Kunlun, which was really difficult to do. Even if Wang Huayun came forward to ask for help, it would be useless. Besides, Lin Haiying was reluctant to let her old father bow down again. The lawyer said that the case was quite complicated and he had to prepare for a marathon. Following the five or ten years of hard work, polishing and exhaustion, he would compare who would have stronger patience and who would last until the end would be the winner.

After he felt confident, Lin Haiying returned to England, Liu Yimeng and Chunjiu returned to Jinjiang. When he left the palace, Liu Yimeng did not notice that there was a pair of eyes looking at him somewhere behind him.

In Dougezhuang Detention Center, Liu Kunlun was shaved with bald head, wearing a vest and slippers, and had steel handcuffs on his hands. When it was time to meet with the lawyer, his lawyer was Xie Tianji, a partner of Beijing Tianji Law Firm. It is said that this law firm has a very background and specializes in criminal cases that others dare not take on. Lawyer Xie is a legend in the lawyer industry, and even the judge dare not underestimate him.

Lawyer Xie and Liu Kunlun sat face to face. There was no camera in the meeting room and no police surveillance.

"The situation has changed, extradition is impossible, and it can only be tried in China. This means that you have to make the worst plan. Of course, we will not give up until the last moment." Lawyer Xie was wearing a suit and tie, very aura.

"What do my father say?" Liu Kunlun asked.

"He said, I'll make you feel at ease." Xie Tianji said, not knowing what this reassurance refers to, whether this life can be saved, or whether there is no need to worry about the funeral afterwards.

One night two days later, Liu Kunlun was taken to the jail in a sleepy manner. The police sent him a piece of paper and a pen. Lawyer Xie was also beside him and urged: "Hurry up, sign quickly and leave!"

Liu Kunlun was confused and signed randomly. He got on a prison car under the night. The escort was four special policemen in black with SWAT printed on their backs. He sat in the prison car without windows with expressionless faces. He drove all the way and was drowsy. Liu Kunlun fell asleep again, and he was alone and had no concern.

After waking up, the prison car reached the end and Liu Kunlun was detained in another place. The lawyer said it took a lot of trouble to complete it. Now it can be a room by one person, and the food has changed from a big steamed bun to four small stir-fryers, and the living standards have increased a lot.

I don’t know which prison it is. The prison is very modern. There is a bed, fixed tables and chairs, bathroom equipment, and a washbasin and toilet alone. I no longer have to queue up every morning. The windows are close to the ceiling, and there is only a fixed time for sunlight to shine in every day.

Liu Kunlun was a little uncomfortable. He liked that many people were locked together, popular and had an inexplicable sense of security, but here there were only cold walls and endless waiting.

...

In Hong Kong, Li Shengnan surfed the Internet at her home in a thousand-foot-foot mansion in the mountains. There was a thick English version of "The Biography of Wang Jian" next to her computer. The other end of the network cable was her online boyfriend, the Royal Canadian Mounted Policeman Zhuoni. The two chatted in a mess across thousands of miles, but Li Shengnan's mind was with Wang Jian, who had already passed away.

Originally, she thought that this large novel must be obscure and ugly, and there was no fun at all, but when she read it, she realized that she was outrageously wrong. This was simply a historical biography that surpassed all fictional novels. Wang Jian's own experience can be regarded as a legend of a generation.

Wang Jian, a native of Kowloon Village City, Hong Kong Island, was born in the 13th year of Tongzhi in the Qing Dynasty. In 1874 AD, his life experience is unclear. His biological father was a British sailor, some Jewish merchants, and some Portuguese people said that he was a bastard without a father, and his mother was a secret prostitute. The young Wang Jian had no name because of his mixed-race appearance. The sixteen-year-old A Gui followed a British priest to travel to the mainland as a servant in 1890. He said that his name was a servant, but he was actually a child. In short, A Gui came to Beijing, the capital of the Qing Empire at that time, and changed his destiny from then on.

A Gui left the British pastor, and a few years later, he borrowed the identity of a Guangzhou Juren who died of illness in the capital to participate in the examination and passed the Jinshi. At this time, his name was Wang Qian.

Wang Qian worked as a Hanlin, Zhang Jing of the Zongli Yamen, and even served as a private translator for Prince Gong Yixin. Later, he withdrew from the officialdom and moved to industry, built railways and opened coal mines, and had close contacts with important officials in the late Qing Dynasty. During the rebellion, he switched to the Revolutionary Party to support Sun Wen and Huang Xing and others, but his political achievements were far less than that of his economic achievements. During the Beiyang period, Wang Jian's main activity base was changed from Beijing to Shanghai, and he made a lot of profits in the capital market. He gained tens of millions of silver from the Nanyang rubber stock trend.

During the warlords' melee, Wang Jian made bets from many places. He sent his son to serve as an adjutant to Zhang Xueliang of the Fengtian clan and married Wu Peifu. However, he did not bet on the right side of the country and eventually had to leave Shanghai sadly and return to his long-lost hometown, Hong Kong.

In the late fifties, Wang Jian was awarded the title of jazz by the Queen of England. At this time, he was eighty-five years old and was still in good health. He had eight surviving concubines and countless children. But what is most puzzling is that before he passed away, Wang Jian, who was 110 years old, left most of his inheritance to his 60-year-old illegitimate son.

Of course, the author gave the answer in the book, on the one hand, it was Wang Jian’s guilt towards this son, and on the other hand, it was also due to his son’s excellence.

This illegitimate son is Wang Huayun. Today's Hong Kong celebrity also has a jazz title, but he is more inclined to Beijing and once served as vice chairman of the National Committee of the Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference. This shows that Lao Wang Jian's old strategy is in the layout. If his other sons inherited their main business, the Wang family's 100-year foundation would be defeated.

Li Shengnan thought about Wang Jian, and was distracted. On MSN, Zhuang Ni typed a line of words: I have made a major discovery, but it is not convenient to say on the Internet. I will fly to Hong Kong to find you this weekend.

"What's the discovery?" Li Shengnan replied, and a curve raised from the corner of his mouth. Zhuoni was so cute. He said that the Internet was inconvenient. He clearly wanted to take the opportunity to meet him and relieve the pain of longing for him.

"We can't say too much about Wang Haikun's murder, because the Internet is not safe." Zhuoni typed a line of words.

"Okay, I'll pick you up." Li Shengnan also typed a line of words.

On the weekend, Li Shengnan came to Chi Lak Kok Airport and waited for a long time at the exit but didn't wait for Zhuang Ni. He called him, but no one answered, and finally someone answered. It was a ghost guy's voice, telling Li Shengnan that the owner of the mobile phone was in emergency treatment and was in a car accident.

Li Shengnan suddenly panicked and contacted Zhuoni's Canadian colleagues in other ways to find out what happened. It turned out that Zhuoni was hit by a stolen truck on the way to the airport and was seriously injured. The perpetrator escaped.

Waiting anxiously, a few hours later, the bad news came, and Jonnie died of injuries and left.

Li Shengnan took a leave, bought a plane ticket and flew to Vancouver, and bid farewell to Jonny in the drizzle. She suspected that this was not an ordinary car accident, but a murder together. However, the Canadian police and Jonny's family did not think so, and they were unwilling to cooperate with Li Shengnan in the investigation. They all said that letting the deceased rest in peace is the best choice.

But Li Shengnan still came to Zhuoni's house in the name of condolences to his family and walked into Zhuoni's room. Once upon a time, the two of them chatted all night against the computer. Zhuoni was sitting on this chair, facing the computer. Li Shengnan had a sudden inspiration and opened the drawer to find a small plum screwdriver. He opened the computer case cover, but it was empty where the hard drive should be placed.

Now she was even more convinced that Jonny was murdered. At the same time, the bone-broken cold came. They could kill Jonny and herself. As long as they were exposed to secrets, they would die.

Li Shengnan hugged her arms tightly, shivering, and tears flowed out. As a policeman, she had never been so helpless and so fearful.

...

In Sichuan, Ganzi grassland, Nyingma Zaxi rode a motorcycle and carried two buckets to the river to get water. Although the winter on the plateau is extremely cold, the river never freezes and the water quality is clear. It is the drinking water source for Nyingma Zaxi's family and herdsmen.

A man walked over from the other side of the river. Nyingma Zaxi stood up and waited. There were often mainland hikers in this place. They could not swim in this season. They could only walk upwards for dozens of kilometers and pass through the shallow water. However, after the man approached, Nyingma Zaxi discovered that he was not a traveler, but a Gadangwa.

Gadangwa is a Tibetan secret hidden man, or a practitioner. There are many legendary stories about such people. Nyingma Zaxi also heard some of his ancestors say. He used Tibetan and gestures to signal Gadangwa to go upstream, but the other party ignored him and took off his clothes with a smile. In fact, it was just a thin monk's robe, without even wearing shoes. He just held his clothes in his hands and walked over from the cold river.

Nyingma Zaxi scratched his mind and couldn't understand it. In the summer, he had dived in the river and knew that the depth here could flood an adult, but the water only spread to Gaidan's chest. Is it the dry season in winter? Well, it must be.

In a blink of an eye, Gadangwa went ashore and put on a monk's robe. Nyingma Zaxi came forward to invite him to visit his home and drink a cup of milk tea to replenish his energy.

Gadangwa agreed, and he walked quickly with Nyingma Zaxi's motorcycle, but he was not at a disadvantage.

Nyingma Zaxi's family is very wealthy, with diesel generators and various electrical appliances. There are family photos hanging on the walls. Gaidanwa is chatting while drinking milk tea, and listening to Nyingma Zaxi telling the story of the family.

Gaidangwa walked to the wall, looked at every face on the photo, and suddenly pointed at Liu Yimeng and asked, "Who is this?"

"My youngest sister-in-law is Liu Yimeng." Nyingma Zaxi said.

A rare warmth appeared on Gadangwa Qingyan's face.

"My name is Nyingma Zaxi, what do you call it?" asked my elder brother-in-law.

"My name is Shamba," said Gadonva.
Chapter completed!