Eleven years ago, Jiang Qinlan was seventeen, just like Jiang Yuchi is now. What kind of video could Jiang Haotian have held onto for so long, so confident that it would be enough to destroy her?
At that moment, Jiang Yuchi felt as though an invisible hand were clutching her throat, making every breath feel like a slow, intangible torture.
Her fingertips trembling, she tapped on the single video file. It was short—only five minutes of surveillance footage. As soon as it began, it showed Old Master Jiang sitting leisurely on a recliner made of golden nanmu wood. The setting appeared to be the Jiang Family study.
Chapter 40