In her heart, she kept chanting, Old Du, hurry up and pour the gasoline, set the fire, burn them all to death!
Unfortunately, no matter how many times she silently repeated it, there was no movement outside.
She didn’t know if Mr. Du thought the timing wasn’t right or if there was another reason.
She felt that while everyone was distracted, looking at the evidence and whispering among themselves, it was the perfect moment to set the house ablaze.
It wasn’t that Mr. Du didn’t want to carry out the plan, but when he instructed his men to prepare to douse the estate with gasoline, they discovered that the many barrels of fuel, drawn from car tanks, had somehow been replaced with water.
Opening the lids, there wasn’t even a whiff of gasoline.
Mr. Du had someone dump out a barrel and try to light it, but it wouldn’t catch, confirming the gasoline had been swapped.
Mr. Du broke out in a cold sweat.
This plan had been devised between him and the family head, known only to a few he trusted completely—those helping him execute it tonight—and no one else.
Even these men only learned the full plan this evening, leaving them no chance to replace so much gasoline undetected.
Who had swapped their gasoline?
Using even a toe to think, it had to be Mrs. Shang and her group.
Mr. Du had assumed the only force to rely on from Wan City was the Su family, so he’d guarded heavily against them, thinking that was enough.
Besides, the Su family weren’t gods; there were plenty of things beyond their reach.
Neither the Su family head nor the young master had appeared in Jiang City.
Even Su Nan was nowhere to be seen.
He didn’t believe the Su family could swap out all that gasoline without a trace.
If not the Su family, then who?
Was there a hidden force among those who came from Wan City?
The Lan family head, perhaps?
But the Lan couple had only arrived in Jiang City in the last couple of days, likely still piecing together the situation—how could they have swapped the gasoline?
In the courtyard, enduring the skeptical gazes of the crowd, Feng Yue never saw the flames she’d hoped for.
The evidence Mr. Fei had painstakingly gathered decades ago hadn’t reached Feng Yue’s hands, though her children had seen it.
In the end, it returned to Mrs. Shang.
Feng Yue couldn’t hold back, “Feng Ying, Brother Fei, if you think that’s evidence proving I killed my eldest sister, why not let me see it? Afraid it’s fabricated? To snatch the family head position, you’re shameless enough.”
“Using rumors to attack me, calling in all these media reporters to ruin my reputation, aiming to disgrace me completely—I tell you, I, Feng Yue, stand upright, sit upright, and fear no false accusations.”
“I didn’t harm my sisters. But you, Brother Fei, disappearing suddenly back then, I should suspect you’re the real killer of my eldest sister!”
“Brother Fei must have told you he was hunted by me, claiming I wanted to silence him, right? In truth, I was avenging my sister—he killed her, fled, and I sent people after him.”
Mr. Fei said coldly, “How loyal is Mr. Du to you? We assistants, from the moment we joined the family head, lived as her people and died as her ghosts, never wavering.”
“Feng Yue, by saying I killed the family head, you’re distrusting assistants. These past decades, have you distrusted Mr. Du too?”
“Such a pity for Mr. Du, serving you loyally, yet you suspect and mistrust him. And why did you place Mr. Fang by your daughter’s side?”
