"Arrange a meeting for me; I want to see him."
Five o'clock, Western Prison.
Peng Xianzhi sat down, a man in his early sixties with a somewhat elderly appearance. He looked through the glass at the person opposite him, and after a moment, picked up the phone, "Who might you be?"
Jiang Zhi sat casually, placing the phone to his ear, introducing himself, "Jiang Family's youngest son, Jiang Zhi."
Jiang Zhi of the Jiang Family in Imperial City.
Peng Xianzhi's gaze darted away, "I don't know you."
Jiang Zhi drawled, "That's not a problem, as long as I know you." He leaned forward, and his blurred reflection in the clear glass had crisp edges, "Eight years ago, you were in charge of taking care of the Luo Family's greenhouse. You set fire to the greenhouse while drunk, resulting in two deaths and one injury, and you were sentenced to life without parole. Am I right?"
