At this moment, inside a detention center in the Imperial Capital.
Dong Qicheng sat on a cold chair, his hands cuffed, his face haggard.
Compared to his usual high spirits, he was utterly disheveled now.
The expensive haute couture had been replaced by the detention center's uniform, his face pale and eyes dark-circled from a sleepless night, and his normally groomed hair was a mess.
Squeak—
The detention room's door suddenly opened from the outside.
A policeman led in a man in a suit.
"Second Young Master." The man called out.
Upon hearing this voice, Dong Qicheng quickly lifted his head, struggling to stand up.
The policeman standing guard immediately extended a baton.
"What are you moving for? Sit down!"
From birth, Dong Qicheng had everything go smoothly, always being revered wherever he went, even many dignitaries had to show respect to the Dong family.
But now, a mere detention center policeman dared to shout at him.
