Feng Yue sneered coldly: “Young Master Zhan, how can you prove they’re the senior elders of the Five Emperors Hall? Among everyone present, who recognizes these elders? Who can verify their identities?”
Zhan Yin was unexpectedly left speechless by the question.
Aside from their own group, no one present had actually seen the five senior elders.
Even they had only recently met the elders in person.
The older generation at home could confirm their identities.
But since they were aligned with Mrs. Shang, even if they could vouch for the elders, their credibility wouldn’t carry much weight.
“I’ve seen them. I can confirm their identities.”
An aged voice rang out from the direction of the mansion’s entrance.
The scene had been deathly silent until this elderly voice broke through, like a thunderclap on flat ground, ensuring everyone present could hear him.
All eyes turned toward the sound.
The newcomer was an old man in his nineties, still spry despite his age. Though he carried a cane in one hand, he walked without assistance. He seemed to have just stepped out of a car, steadying himself before responding loudly and then striding toward the crowd with his cane.
Several young people accompanying him hurried to match his pace.
This old man was someone everyone present recognized—no exceptions. Even Zhan Yin and his group from Guancheng knew him.
The Zhan family had businesses in Jiang City, and with the third young master stationed there long-term this year, it was clear their holdings in the city were substantial. Anyone doing business in Jiang City knew Director Fan—Old Master Fan—the most respected figure in the city’s commerce.
At over ninety, he’d already become a great-grandfather and had retired, yet his standing in Jiang City’s business world remained unshakable. This was a man who loved charity, having helped countless people with his generosity and support.
Kind-hearted, well-connected, and virtuous—that was how Old Master Fan earned his lofty status and immense popularity in Jiang City.
He even kept up with modern trends. With short videos all the rage, the old man would film snippets of his daily life, amassing a huge following.
Thus, truly no one present didn’t recognize him.
“Old Fan.”
“Old Fan.”
Everyone greeted Old Master Fan warmly, as if he were an old friend.
The media reporters’ cameras zeroed in on him, snapping several clear shots of his face.
Old Fan walked up to Mr. Fei and clapped a hand on his shoulder with the familiarity of an old friend meeting again. “Old Fei, I thought I’d never see you in this lifetime. I can’t believe you’re still alive.”
“And you’re still kicking too. I thought you’d kicked the bucket,” Mr. Fei shot back.
Old Master Fan laughed. “You haven’t croaked yet—how could I bear to go first? Both of us in our nineties, meeting again—it’s truly heaven’s favor.”
They were men of the same era.
When they were making their mark in Jiang City, most of the people present hadn’t even been born.
Though Mr. Fei had been the assistant to the former head of the Feng family, it was precisely that role that allowed him to frequently cross paths with Old Master Fan. They might not have been close friends, but they’d dealt with each other countless times and knew each other well.
