"Shut up," Tang Xin rolled her eyes at her best friend in exasperation, "Like I would fall for this guy?"

At that moment, she couldn't help but take another look at the screen.

Yet in her heart, she couldn't suppress a sneer—hmm, Pigeon Fang, will you survive this time?

...

Boom, boom, boom—

A dull knocking sound came from outside the door.

A moment later, the iron door creaked open. The man who opened the door was the male owner of the apartment, around forty years old, wearing silver-rimmed glasses, clad in a retro Zhongshan suit, gentle and refined, exuding a scholarly air.

Upon seeing the visitors outside, the man was momentarily taken aback—clearly, they were government officials, dressed in suits, clutching attachés, and accompanied by a few well-composed individuals—obviously police officers.

"Who might you be?"

"Hello, no need to worry, let's just confirm," said the young government official with a smile, politely adding, "may I ask if you are Mr. Tang Sheng?"

The male owner was slightly startled but quickly regained his composure and nodded, "And you are...?"

The young man politely cut him off, "May I ask what is the relationship between Mr. Tang, his wife, and Mr. Fang Hong?"

"Little Hong?" The man's face changed slightly, "What's happened, has something happened to him?"

"He himself hasn't had an accident," the young man couldn't help but give a wry smile, "Mr. Tang, but it's almost chaos on our end, we're hoping for your and your wife's help—"

As he spoke.

He reached into his briefcase and took out a stack of photographs, handing them over, "Please take a look at these first."

The man took the photographs.

In Elpaxin, inside the competition room, Fang Hong had just completed the last connection. He gently lowered his left hand, but before he had a chance to properly examine his work, he couldn't help but let out a hefty sneeze.

He lifted his head in confusion, looking around, then scratched his head.

Outside the competition area, there was already a stir.

At the same time, outside the doors of the Elpaxin Artisan Association—

The staff was stupefied, watching a row of silver knights descend from the sky, landing in the square outside the Artisan Association's main door, neatly dismounting their bipedal flying dragons, then striding side by side up the steps.

As a native of Elpaxin, he naturally recognized the identity of these knights—the Silverwind Knights, theoretically one of the local autonomous forces of Elpaxin, although loyal to the Kingdom of Colin, but still possessing a certain degree of independent power.

This was the political structure established in Colin: the central and local governments did not interfere with each other, and in fact, the Silverwind Knights' sense of belonging in the area was much higher than that of the city's Chief Praetor and his ilk—Elpaxin People have always seen them as the pride of the city.

Moreover, they had the backing of the Colin Commercial League.

Therefore, the staff member did not dare to show any negligence and stepped forward to greet them with a bow, "Sir Agar, esteemed Knights, may I ask what brings you here—"

The Grand Commander of the Silverwind Knights, Viscount Agar, was a man of quite stern appearance. The curl of his mustache over his lips only intensified his authority, as he placed a hand on his sword and raised his eyebrows to speak, "Richard, lad, put away your slick moves in front of me, I know what you are thinking. Relax, I'm only here on someone's behalf to find a person, I won't disturb your contest—as for Chairman Rosetta, I'll speak to him myself."

The staff member finally breathed a sigh of relief, quickly giving way, somewhat pleasantly surprised that such a significant figure remembered someone as insignificant as him.

Yet neither he, nor the knights entering the Artisan Association, noticed.

In the shadows on one side of the Artisan Association, a master and her servant stepped back, Hilveld carrying a leather case, quietly watching the scene unfold—behind her, the tall female servant with a cold expression remained as ever.

Beneath the soft golden hair, eyes like shallow seas naturally watched the knights entering the interior of the Artisan Association.

"They've arrived faster than expected, Xiesta."

"Those people's influence is indeed deeply rooted in the kingdom."

"Hmm."

...

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