Lu Jin.
Uncle.
A name and title that felt both unfamiliar and familiar.
He existed in Chen Ji's world like a legend, thousands of miles away, yet as unignorable as the towering mountains by Chunlei Lake.
In the study of the Zhou residence, only Chen Ji, Jin Zhu, and Xi Feng remained, flipping through official reports.
Xi Feng sat upright in the grand armchair, his expression indifferent and disdainful, as if he weren’t reading reports but rather the memorials of the provincial governors of the Jing Dynasty.
Jin Zhu sat by the redwood desk, putting down the report in his hand and looking at the tiger-faced man across from him.
"Do you think the recent explosion case in Luo City was caused by infighting within the Jing Dynasty's Military Intelligence Division?"
Chen Ji spread out the report in his hand for Jin Zhu to see.
"Lu Jin was forced out of power due to political struggles. His enemies would naturally move to cut off his support. This explains why the Jing Dynasty assassins who attacked you ended up fighting with the monks from the Jing Dynasty's Kujue Temple."
Jin Zhu clapped his hands.
"It took me a whole day to figure this out, but you grasped it just by reading one line from the report. Impressive."
"So, you already knew about this?"
Jin Zhu smiled.