National Forensic Doctor

The black Rolls Royce gracefully glided into a bustling alley and stopped in front of a screen wall.

The driver jogged from the front seat, pulling open the rear-hinged door for Huang Qiangmin to step out with a broad smile, gracefully.

"This won’t do, this won’t do," Huang Qiangmin patted the old man’s hand who followed him out, repeatedly saying, "This car isn’t suitable for us, it’s not right."

"I think it’s quite suitable instead. You all work so hard on the case; the seats in this car need to be softer so you can sleep comfortably. And look at Jiang Yuan—his legs are so long, he’s uncomfortable in ordinary cars; he needs a stretched Rolls Royce," the old man, Hassan, flattered shamelessly, as if treating mouth ulcers with a health drink, only talking about how beautiful American double tails are.

Suppressing his satisfaction, Huang Qiangmin sighed silently by the Rolls Royce door, "Better not, if someone takes a photo and sends it back to China, it could cause a storm. We’d better use domestic cars or just the Dama Police Station’s existing vehicles."

"How can that be?"

"It’s fine, Chinese people in Chinese cars; that’s also suitable."

"Let me think of a way then," the old man saw that Huang Qiangmin was not just being polite and stopped.

At this moment, Jiang Yuan got out from the extended Rolls Royce behind and came to Huang Qiangmin’s side.

"Let’s go, let’s go, we’ll talk inside," Huang Qiangmin immediately pulled Jiang Yuan along, not giving the old man a chance to speak.

This guy’s identity is too complicated, and Huang Qiangmin doesn’t want Jiang Yuan to have too much contact with him.

The old man, Hassan, actually knew what Huang Qiangmin was thinking, or rather, the previous intense conflict had already plainly expressed it; now, the old man was still following, merely entwining himself shamelessly with the investigation team.