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"Uncle, you know so many people—can't you help by asking around?"
Xia Yidong, resting his chin on his hand, listened for quite a while without grasping the whole story, "Ask around? Ask whom?"
"About the detective agency in building number five," Xia Lu sighed, "What have you been listening to all this time?"
After Gao Qishan returned, he arranged a new house for him, and Xia Yidong, with his family in tow, had already moved to the new place, no longer living in the less than eighty-square-meter old public housing.
"Hey, it took me a long time to understand—you're talking about that old house from before?"
Xia Lu was speechless, her uncle wasn't a bad person nor was he unresponsive; he was just slow on the uptake, unreliable in his words and deeds. If it hadn't been for Zhou Mingchen mentioning the detective agency and discovering that it was precisely located in Xia Yidong's old neighborhood, she wouldn't have specifically come to ask.
