In the capital, by the side of Shenzheng Way, there stood a house. Wang Qinian had bought the house with 120 taels of silver, and having gone through a few formalities, he was confident that no one could ever find out who its true owner was. Fan Xian frowned as he looked at the two burly men completely tied up in the corner. Their mouths were stuffed with smelly cleaning rags, and their faces were red, with tears rolling down from the corners in their eyes. They could not say anything, and naturally, they were unable to bite down on their tongues to kill themselves.
"Where did they catch them?" asked Fan Xian softly.
