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The night deepened.
Feng Jiao, carrying a large black suitcase, appeared at the Jiang ancestral home.
She encountered no resistance.
The numerous checkpoints set up in the back mountain over the past two days seemed to have utterly vanished tonight.
But Feng Jiao understood.
They had merely shifted into the shadows.
She carried the suitcase with ease all the way to the back mountain.
The vast fog of the night shrouded this mountain villa, which appeared exceedingly ominous.
Just as she approached the villa ahead, Feng Jiao paused for a moment.
In the brief span of a breath, she swiftly steeled her nerves.
Honestly, dealing with him... made her anxious.
She was about to step onto the staircase.
Suddenly, a chilly wind swept by, and the woman's face froze, her body rooted to the spot.
"Family... Family Head."
"Give it to me."
"Yes..."
Feng Jiao obediently handed over the suitcase she was carrying.