The devil with ten thousand eyes.

It was six in the morning, he had not worked out and yet Zhangye could feel himself start to sweat as he waited for young master Jun Muyang to reply. He watched the young master flip the newspaper slowly, and take a sip of coffee from the precious green porcelain cup slowly. 'Say something.' he thought anxiously. He was relieved when Muyang put down the newspaper and looked directly at him. 

"Do you know that there is a man called Dai Zhangye who died on his way to a courthouse last year? My wife was visiting this town at around that time, scouting land for her lab." 

Zhangye refused to portray any nervousness or fear. The young miss had not left any evidence behind he was sure. Dai Zhangye was dead and buried, he was someone else now. 

"How is that connected to me young master?" he questioned confidently.