A server gestures toward the door of the adjacent room and says, "They've ordered two duck dishes—just one man and one woman!" "Two?" the other one eyes her in surprise. "They must be real big eaters. On average, one dish per person is quite enough—how could they possibly order two?" The duck dishes here are generously portioned—combining sliced duck meat, duck broth, and crispy salted duck bones—typically sufficient for three or four people. Only the very heavy diners, weighing over 200 pounds, usually finish one dish. The first person shakes her head. "Definitely not big eaters. Both are well-built—especially the woman, whose figure is absolutely perfect!" "Their first time here, surely," the second person speculates. "Otherwise, how could they have ordered two?" At that moment, the door opened from inside, revealing a face that shouted, "Waiter! One more roasted duck, please!" "What?" Both of them stared in astonishment. Qin, slightly displeased, said, "One more roasted duck—quick! We're going to finish the two we already have right away. We really need it fast. Otherwise, I'm not paying!" With that, he pulled his head back and slammed the door shut with a loud *thump*. They exchanged glances, as if they had encountered aliens—how could someone eat so much? Even one duck per person would leave them still hungry. Well, the guests are gods. Their requests must be met. One of them hurried off toward the kitchen. In the room, He Muqing gracefully wiped her lips with a napkin and said, "Xiao Feng, you're truly a food enthusiast. To someone unfamiliar with us, it would seem as though we've both been reborn as starving ghosts. How could they possibly know that nearly eighty percent of the food has ended up in your stomach, while I, a perfectly normal eater, am still feeling satisfied?" Is it really a bad thing to be so hungry? "He chuckled, "I'll charge whatever amount I eat, and I won't cut them off a single penny. Besides, after dinner I'll have to do some physical work at home. If I don't eat well, how will I have the strength to carry on? You'll surely complain then!" "Ugh, always so unprofessional," the beautiful woman said, giving him a graceful glance. "He doesn't seem genuinely eager to mend relations with us—politicians always have their own hidden agendas," said He Meiren. "Yes, his real intention is to stabilize us so he can strike quietly and deliver a decisive blow," Qin Feng had already anticipated the strategy, saying, "I've already informed Huili and Fangfang to stay alert—Guan will surely target my company!" Trinitrotoluene, or TNT—the legendary high-explosive—finds widespread use in weapons and mining industries. However, in the gun-controlled, highly regulated society of the Celestial Kingdom, it is considered a prohibited item and generally inaccessible to ordinary citizens. "A terrorist attack!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening. In recent years, the trend of terrorism has grown increasingly aggressive, even affecting the harmonious society of the Celestial Kingdom, which now frequently faces terrorist incidents. Of course, the Celestial Kingdom's stringent firearm management system plays a significant role, as the terrorists' operations are often hampered by material shortages and thus cannot match the scale of attacks seen abroad. Both of them rushed out of the room, leaving the corridor in disarray, with several staff members lying on the ground, blood streaming from their faces. "What happened?" asked Qin, the young magnate. A lightly injured staff member replied, "A vehicle below has exploded—it was an automobile bomb!" "I'm surprised," she said, "such a serious incident—did you clearly identify which vehicle it was?" "He then asked, since they had caught up, why not help the police identify the mastermind behind the incident—something that would also be a contribution to the people of the capital. He Meng Qing had also prepared herself for the task of apprehending terrorists, her pistol already moved from her sash to her waist, ready to draw and fire at any moment. The server said, "It appears to be a large Cherokees, the one parked on the right side of the entrance. We're not entirely clear about the details. Since neither of you has been injured, please go downstairs now and don't stray too far—we'll need you to assist the police with their inquiries shortly!" The two exchanged glances—how could the large Cherokees on the right side have exploded? After all, that very vehicle had been the one they had driven to the scene. How could it have exploded? The intensity of the explosion clearly indicated a TNT load of no less than fifty kilograms. "Let's go out and take a look," Qin Feng said, stepping forward, with the young woman right behind him. The lobby on the first floor was even more devastated. With guests and staff totaling at least several dozen, several were severely injured—some lying motionless in pools of blood, their fate still uncertain. The entire first floor, aside from a few columns, was completely destroyed, filled with the cries of the wounded. Outside, the damage was even more severe: nearly forty vehicles were completely obliterated, leaving deep craters up to fifty or sixty centimeters in depth. Passengers and storefronts within a five-hundred-meter radius were affected to varying degrees, and almost no intact glass remained along the entire street. The craters where the Cherokee vehicles had been parked—now gone—left only familiar, scattered parts of the cars scattered around. Distant sirens signaled the arrival of police and fire crews. "Xiao Feng, it's really our cars that were blown up," said the beautiful woman softly. "I know," he replied, surveying the scene calmly. "The cars left from your home—there must have been no bombs on them. Someone must have framed us!" "Framed." "He Wen didn't understand. 'Yes,' he smiled slightly, 'it's a frame-up. With this move, everyone now sees us as terrorists—what a serious charge! A car bomb, after all!' He Wen suddenly realized: 'This strategy is truly ruthless. To frame us, they've pulled in so many innocent people!' 'Haha,' he chuckled, 'how else could they hold us accountable? If my guess is right, the police must already have received a complaint from someone about an attack on a target. By then, we'll definitely be on the most suspect list.'"