"Yes." The Yinwei bowed and retreated.

Jiurao leaned against the corridor, frowned and stared at the information in her hand, thinking that who else could be able to do such a big deal to deal with Ji Huangyu, except for the people from the Southern Xinjiang royal family?

Ordinary people can't afford to support so many dead soldiers.

So many people were dispatched not to intercept and kill but to capture them alive, which shows that Ji Huangyu should not have any worries about his life for the time being.

But Mo Hua...

I just received a message from him a few days ago, saying that I would stay in Mocheng for a few more days and handle the matter completely before coming back.

Jiurao pondered for a long time.

Although Ji Huangyu had controlled most of the power of the southern Xinjiang royal family before, others were not in southern Xinjiang, and many things were communicated only through letters, which was obviously not so convenient and was easy to give people an opportunity to take advantage of.

It would be easy if someone with a meticulous mind did something while he was not in court.

...

Mocheng has been a little uneasy recently.

Eight people died in one day within the Mo family clan, all of whom were elders from the Mo family branch, which made some people in Mocheng panic and also alarmed Mo Yuanfan, the head of the Mo family who had not yet stepped down but was no longer in charge.

With a sky-high anger, he arrived at the Mo family mansion, and he said coldly: "Mo Yao!"

Mo Yao, who had just received the news, walked out of the study. His pale face was shockingly morbid. The series of severe coughs in his throat made his voice hoarse and broken. However, when he saw the person in front of him, he suppressed the discomfort in his throat and said lightly: "My father is so disobedient... What happened outside?"

"What's the matter? I want to ask you." Mo Yuanfan stared at him coldly, "So many people died in the clan, you didn't hear any news, or did you deliberately pretend to be deaf and dumb?"

So many people died?

Mo Yao was shocked and was about to ask what was going on, but suddenly he thought of something, his expression was slightly stern.

Although it was just a subtle change in expression, he could not escape Mo Yuanfan's eyes. He narrowed his eyes coldly: "Mo Yao, is this matter related to you?"

Mo Yao came back to his senses and said lightly: "Father was joking."

"Just?" Mo Yuanfan walked to him, stared at him with a cold look, and reached out to pinch his chin, "Then tell me-"

"Father." Pinghe's voice suddenly sounded in his ears, and with the gentleness of the spring breeze and rain, it successfully interrupted Mo Yuanfan's angry questioning.

After a slight moment, Mo Yuanfan suddenly turned his head and saw a young man of seventeen or eighteen years old standing under the paulownia tree not far away, looking at him with a calm expression, his eyes as clear as the blue sky.

The familiar eyebrows and eyes, familiar temperament, although their figure was much higher than four years ago, and their facial features and contours also faded from their childishness, and they looked much more calm and gentle, Mo Yuanfan still recognized who the boy in front of him was at a glance.

"Mo Hua?" In extreme surprise, he couldn't help but let Mo Yao go, "When did you come back? Why didn't I receive any news?"

"I just arrived in Mocheng this morning." Mo Hua spoke without changing his face, his voice faintly, "Did my father come to ask his elder brother for a crime early in the morning?"

Mo Yuanfan was stunned, and then remembered the reason why he came here, and a little cold anger appeared on his face, "Eight people died in Mocheng overnight, all of them were uncles in your tribe, and now people are in panic-"

"Father, my brother probably can't give you an answer to this matter. It's useless for you to ask him."

What?

Mo Yuanfan was stunned: "Mo Hua, what do you... mean?"

——
Chapter completed!