Looking at Master Fox standing atop the car, holding a rectangular box high above him, even with a saddlebag slung across his chest, Wang Ya's gaze was fixed on his bell.
Despite Wang Ya's efforts to resist, the bell was like a hypnotist's pendulum, or perhaps a black hole swirling, firmly attracting all of Wang Ya's attention.
Further down, you could see Master Fox's meticulously trimmed nails and toes resembling garlic cloves.
The fur on Fox's small paws was as meticulously refined as grains at the tips.
Wang Ya dared not even imagine how soft it would be if Master Fox were to kick his face.
"Factory? What's building what factory?"
Originally scanning the chemical plant, Ansheng was stunned when he heard what Wang Ya said.
Someone... built a factory on that grave?
How could a factory be built there? Previously, Wang Ya had explicitly stated that the ruins had surfaced above the ground, which led to Wang Ya's car crash.
Although Ansheng wasn't a civil engineer, he knew that before constructing a building, digging for a foundation was necessary.
Such a large ancient ruin—how did the factory owner lay the foundation in it?
As Ansheng thought of this, he seemed to have realized something and frowned, asking Wang Ya:
"Is the factory you mentioned built by our state-owned enterprises, central enterprises, or affiliated enterprises?"
Wang Ya shook his head.
"When I pinpointed the location, I found a ceramic factory built on the ruins. It's situated in the renowned Yaozhou porcelain region of the Tiechuan region. After seeing the ceramic factory's information, I immediately sensed something amiss."
"As I pursued the board members of the ceramic factory further, I traced it to Zen City, realizing the major shareholder of the ceramic factory is a tile company from Zen City. And within the tile company's board, I traced members from Italy's 'Saint Lucy Art Group' and a marble exporter from France."
"This situation is too bizarre..." Wang Ya said to Master Fox:
"Though I don't want to say this, I feel there's something behind Bena's death, things we cannot yet trace."
Wang Ya's words were not subtle; rather, he directly revealed the anomalies he had investigated.
Bena, from Italy, died within the ruins.
Three years later, a ceramic factory invested by her homeland was built on the land where she passed away.
Moreover, during the construction of the ceramic factory, there was no information about any ancient tombs being unearthed. According to records from the urban construction archive that Wang Ya reviewed, foreign engineers were extensively hired during the construction of the ceramic factory, as well as large groups that Wang Ya couldn't trace.
Bena's death might not have been concealed at all.
Yet it seemed someone noticed something, reaching out with an invisible hand to obliterate the truth surrounding Bena's death.
And the invisible hand behind the scenes slyly maneuvered through investments, building a ceramic factory on the land where Bena died.
Excavating a ruin would involve moving tons of soil—it's impossible to do so secretly.
But what if they built a ceramic factory above it, and the local soil was incidentally suitable for firing ceramics?
"Damn it, those damned foreigners have gotten addicted to stealing again!"
After some thought, the book title "Tea Thief" suddenly popped into Ansheng's mind, prompting a wailing noise as if he almost jumped up to curse.
Quite a number of people in the tea industry and tea culture have read "Tea Thief."
The story in the book was about a former East India Company employee recounting how they "borrowed tea trees" in Xia Country and packed tea masters to cultivate worldwide, then tainted Xia Country's tea once their tea trees were grown.
Claims of illegal additives, rumors of spirals leaving home after drinking, or growing full of Binzhou—all sorts of nonsense detached from physical facts.
Back when Ansheng read that book, he was filled with displeasure and rage at first, but after seeing the later content, he looked at the words on the book with a strange expression.
A bunch of people drinking long-transported, tide-exposed, moldy tea—do they even understand what quality tea is?
If you drink high-broken tea every day, I wouldn't challenge your logic.
I don't know how things were before, but speaking of now, the sweepings and dust from floorings of my tea storage are better than your tea.
Even though the foreigners are making wild claims, for those completely ignorant about tea, the official messages surely can't be false, right?
During that time, Xia Country tea suffered, getting stigmatized due to lack of dissemination channels and various reasons, resulting in a longstanding smear—even now, some foreigners think tea originated in Bharata.
After hearing Wang Ya's explanation, Ansheng immediately recalled his displeasure when he initially read "Tea Thief."
First they make excuses to seize it, then they fling mud at the original place, huh?
"I understand everything now. In a while, I'll go restrain the Italians to make sure they can't say anything. However, beforehand, inform Housekeeper Lin and ask him to call Lin Ying to come to Chang'an to receive the flag."
Ansheng raised his fox paw, sharing his thoughts with Wang Ya.
Nonetheless, things at this chemical plant still needed sorting out first.
Master Fox tightly gripped the stick, broke some branches outside the chemical plant, and handed them to the bears.
During this wait, both Ansheng and Fat Cat were not idle; anything that could be dismantled in the chemical plant was dismantled, and what couldn't be dismantled was kicked, leaving numerous fox prints or bear paw prints on the pipes.
The bear demolition team entered, and the dust flew, while the workers shrank, trembling in the corners.
"Old Wang! Where have you gone? How come no one noticed the factory being set on fire? Do you still want your salary?"
"Where's the rich family brat here? Quick, bring him to me!"
A Mercedes drove in from the main entrance, completely oblivious to the large hole at the back of the factory. After the man got off the car, though he noticed a consistent rumbling noise from within the factory, he didn't pay much attention as he thought someone was merely turning on the shredder at night.
Seeing no one in the security room, he cursed and went to push the side door in the middle of the factory's main door, intending to enter for inspection and to extort the dead brat's parents.
However.
When he raised his hand to push the small gate, it was as if he touched a taboo; the entire double doors trembled, and the bolts on the doorposts flew off one by one, while the several-hundred-pound iron doors fell heavily on the ground, collapsing outward onto the road.
"Boom—"
The entire gate crashed down, heavily hitting the Mercedes's rooftop.
The man pushing the door stayed in front of the small gate, maintaining his initial pushing posture.
His position was extremely fortunate; as the entire gate fell, he happened to pass through the small gate, suffering no harm aside from a mouthful of dirt.
The man was still in shock, unable to recover from the near-death experience, when he naively witnessed an even more ridiculous and crazy scene inside the chemical plant.
The man was dumbfounded, completely stupefied.
"I..."
"Did I die from the gate crash and transmigrate to the world of Zootopia?"
"Pandas wearing reflective vests, wearing construction helmets on their heads and demolishing walls..."
"Fox swinging a conductor's baton..."