Back then, the moment Long Qi saw the look in Fris's eyes, he knew that his insistence on shutting down the livestream probably involved more than the Secret Cult's sensitivity in the arena of public opinion.
Likewise, Fris pacing back and forth across the plaza was not purely because he was worried about Lao Yao's "interview"—even Zhao Xi could tell it was just "going through the motions." How could this Lieutenant Colonel, rough on the surface but meticulous underneath, not understand?
Not to mention how often Fris had been sending text messages outside during all this.
Fris unscrewed the cap and gulped down the bitter drink, using it to hide his overly grave expression. At last, he exhaled. "Would've been better chilled... Lao Yao's situation is more troublesome than expected."
After a pause, he added, "And the timing is too perfect."
Long Qi did not care whether it was trouble or coincidence. He brought the axe straight down on the vital point. "Did you report it to BOSS?"
Fris smiled. "I sent a whole bunch of messages. It concerns him too, but I don't know whether he cares."
"Then that's fine." Long Qi smiled as well. "You don't mind saying it out loud again, do you... What exactly did Lao Yao do?"
Fris shook his head. "At the moment, it looks like he fell ill, not into trouble. But one of his relatives caused a huge disaster. His younger brother-in-law—the brother of the wife he married after returning to the city. He used to serve in the military. His surname is Cao."
As he spoke, he tapped the can in midair twice with his finger, signaling that this was the crux of the matter, but he did not continue.
Long Qi understood, though. Fris was not playing mysterious. The incident