Screech—
A military-green Jeep pulled up at the entrance to the residential complex.
He's here!
A murmur rose from the crowd.
The person the leaders had been waiting for had finally arrived!
Who could possibly make the leaders wait like this? Everyone was dying to know.
As everyone craned their necks to look,
Old Fang flushed, puffed out his chest, and strode proudly out of the crowd.
Even through the window, Old Fang could tell the young man in the Jeep's back seat was his son!
The leaders really were waiting for his son!
Old Fang had never been prouder!
Click.
The Jeep's door opened.
A young man with one arm in a sling stepped out, accompanied by a middle-aged man who looked like an official.
The moment the young man saw the group led by Patrol Bureau Director Zhang Qianhai, he froze.
What was going on? Why such a big reception?
Old Fang had already rushed over in excitement.
"Son!"
The young man was bewildered. Before he could make sense of things, a familiar figure hurried toward him, arms spread for a bear hug.
"Son, you're finally back! Let me see how badly you're hurt. Is it serious?"
"Look at me, I nearly forgot in all the excitement... Son, so many leaders are waiting here for you. You must thank them for thinking so highly of you, and from now on, you should work hard to—"
"Dad!"
The young man cut Old Fang off.
"Dad, what are you talking about? Why would the leaders be waiting for me?"
Old Fang beamed. "Why wouldn't they? My son was wounded fighting the Demon Race! Tell me, with New Year almost here, who else would the leaders value enough to wait outside the complex on Little New Year's Eve?"
"They're obviously waiting