A large residence, East District No. 12 Courtyard.
A young boy sweeping the small courtyard cleverly checked all the rooms, then quickly walked out of the courtyard and ran all the way to the end of the alley on the left.
"Well?" Ah Jiu asked, grabbing the boy's sleeve.
"No one's there!" The boy shook his head decisively.
Ah Jiu wasn't too surprised, just a little disappointed that his sliver of hope had been dashed. After letting go of the boy, he leaped onto the roof of a nearby residence and sped off toward the Qingjiang Tea House.
Inside a private room on the second floor of the Qingjiang Tea House.
Leng Qianhu sat by the window, watching the woman singing on the stage on the first floor, while Wang Ping stood in the center of the room, concentrating his divine soul to investigate his surroundings.
A moment later, a junior officer quickly walked in through the open door.
"Sir, Zhang Jinglong didn't show up at the lamb soup shop this morning!"
"Did he really get away?"
