?Mobile reading Ma Fat's 180-degree turnaround left several close associates at a loss. E-book (txt02.com) Originally, Ma Fat had already prepared to go after Shu Yajing. On his way upstairs, he received a phone call that instantly transformed his long, broad face into a bloom of joy. When he met Qin Feng, he was especially courteous—constantly apologizing, saying things like "misunderstandings"—a level of politeness he hadn't shown to his own father in all his life. Not only that, but Qin Feng ultimately received the kind of honor usually reserved for heroes, being warmly escorted out of the police station in a grand, relaxed manner. Fang Fang had no idea what had transpired. To her, the outcome was nothing short of astonishing. Holding the thermos of breakfast, she frowned slightly. "Qin Feng, how is that fat man being so polite to you?" "Ah, well—of course, when you make a mistake, you naturally feel embarrassed." Qin Feng didn't intend to reveal the truth to her, lest she become overly concerned. Wei Qingtian, the one who had recently spoken to him on the phone, was the Chairman of the Chinese People's Liberation Army Military Commission—a figure of immense stature, second only to the President. Just a month ago, Death Island received a mission to assassinate Wei Qingtian, with a reward of six million euros and a deadline of three months. This mission fell most heavily on Qin Feng's shoulders. Since Death Island no longer exists, the mission has naturally become obsolete. No wall is ever completely impermeable. Given the competence and resourcefulness of Chinese intelligence operatives, they soon became aware of the mission to eliminate Wei Qingtian. But what could they do? The FBI in the United States is formidable, the CIA equally so—yet Qin Feng had already eliminated the U.S. Secretary of State. The British Military Intelligence Six is no less tenacious—its head director also fell victim to Qin Feng. The Italian Mafia boss, ranked fifth among the world's ten most dangerous figures, protected by over five hundred guards every day, still met his end at Qin Feng's hands. So Wei Qingtian was genuinely terrified upon hearing the news—he had been waking up startled by nightmares every single night for a month. He didn’t doubt at all the capabilities of the three seniors who had fallen; he was certain the security measures were flawless. Yet they still perished. Wei Qingtian wouldn’t be foolish enough to believe his luck was better than theirs. The Death Island has always been the most mysterious, and according to records, no task has ever gone uncompleted by them. Qin Feng certainly wouldn’t be foolish enough to reveal his identity outright; instead, he simply claimed it was a message from a friend he met on the road. As for that friend’s identity—you want to know? I’m sorry, it’s strictly confidential. In return, Qin Feng’s condition is simple: he wants his freedom, and no more complaints about the beatings he’s received from the street vendors. For Wei Qingtian, this request was nothing more than a matter of a phone call to the Ministry of Public Security—once the minister personally issued the order, who could possibly refuse? Fang Fang shook the thermos in her hand. “Then, what should we do now?” "Qin Feng smiled warmly, asking, 'Are you not going to work today?' 'I've already asked for leave from my manager this morning—my mom even scolded me for it,' Fang Fang murmured quietly. As for the most difficult thing in life, nothing compares to the grace of a woman's kindness. Receiving the thermos that she had been holding all along, Qin Feng smiled and said, 'Then let's find a place to sit down. I'd like to taste the breakfast prepared by this lovely woman—surely it will be delicious.' Fang Fang looked slightly uneasy, asking, 'How do you know it's my breakfast?' Qin Feng's eyes were sharp—keen observation was the very foundation of a killer's skill. The thermos had been held with such care, and if it weren't her own effort, why would she be so attentive? Fang Fang's head lowered further, nearly touching the tall chest before her, her cheeks flushed with warmth, the atmosphere growing increasingly intimate. Holding a young woman's hand—Qin Feng's favorite. Beep… Beep… The honking of the car’s horn interrupted the unfolding intimacy. He angrily lifted his head, thinking, Who is this? So impolite! Didn’t see me preparing to make a move, did they? This was a major disruption! Hou Bao shook his head with a sense of helplessness, thinking how wonderful a girl she was—so pure and sincere—only to be nearly trampled by a pig. Once on the bus, Qin Feng didn’t bother with the old man at all; he opened the thermos and devoured the porridge and side dishes with great enthusiasm, though the fare was simple, the flavors were truly outstanding. As the old man ate, he said, “The results are in—you are indeed Awai’s son. Fifteen years you’ve been away. How could you have returned only now? If you had come just six months earlier, Awai wouldn’t have….” By the time he finished speaking, Hou Bao was weeping profusely. Qin Feng thought to himself—six months earlier? That was already a stretch; even a single day earlier would have been a miracle. “Are you absolutely certain I’m not faking it?” Qin Feng asked, looking up. Hou Bao nodded firmly, saying, “I’ve not only tested your DNA against Awai’s, but also compared yours with Wu Shan’s—the similarity is 99.9 percent. There’s no room for error.” This surprised Qin Feng. The old man was remarkably efficient—within just one night, he had completed DNA comparisons among the three individuals. Setting down the thermos, he took the tissue paper offered by Fang Fang, wiped his mouth, and asked, "How did my parents die, and what role did you play?" He appeared so composed because he sensed that Hou Bao was holding back. Perhaps it was because Fang Fang, as an outsider, couldn't express herself freely, or maybe he was deliberately concealing something. Hou Bao smiled faintly and said, "You'll need to meet your father's second wife, Cheng Mei, and your paternal half-brother, Qin Yu, also known as Xiao Feng. You'll have to face reality—Cheng Mei has been married to your father for fourteen years." There was one thing Hou Bao hadn't explicitly stated: if it weren't for your arrival, Cheng Mei and Qin Yu would have been the legitimate heirs of the Qin Group.