"Pick two more of our men and have them watch him secretly."
She narrowed her eyes, her gaze as sharp as a knife.
"See if he makes any moves, if there's any emotional fluctuation. Even a single complaint, a single look—it all needs to be recorded."
"Understood!"
Cheng Peng gave a firm reply, then turned and left with brisk steps.
He knew this wasn't just about relaying a message. It was a test.
Song Qingya stood in the doorway, watching Cheng Peng's retreating figure with a cool look in her eyes.
The wind rustled through her hair, bringing a slight chill.
She gently pulled her collar tighter and murmured to herself, 'I want to see what this Yang Kai is really made of.'
Cheng Peng had always been efficient. Before long, he arrived at Yang Kai's home.
It was a low-slung adobe house with mottled walls. A corner of the roof had collapsed and was barely covered with a few wooden planks.
