Reincarnation- Lord is extremely hardcore

Chapter 62 part 4

—— Mr. Mo, are you sleeping?

Mo Qianren turned on the lights. He stared at the message on his phone, calculating inwardly how much effort it would take and how much of his sleeping time he would be sacrificing if he responded to her.

But his body always seemed to act faster than his mind.

Before he could consciously react, he had already typed a response and sent it.

—— No.

Staying up to text someone just talking about boring things: it was a first for Mu Rulan, and unexpectedly, very interesting.

—— Is Mr. Mo a law enforcement officer?

—— No.

Mo Qianren replied without hesitation. He had never thought of himself as a law enforcement officer. Though he worked in a prison and at times assisted the FBI in catching criminals, he only had one condition: he needed to be interested in the suspect, first.

Mu Rulan raised her brows when she saw his response.

—— Is that so? Goodnight, Mr. Mo. Chatting with you is very fun. (Cute smiley emoticon)

Mu Rulan felt that Mr. Mo would probably not respond to her goodnight text, so she put her phone back on her nightstand. But, unexpectedly, the response came very quickly.

She opened the message, curious, before bursting into laughter.

The man said:

—— Don't lie to the side, you may die early.

She had still been puzzled over why Mo Qianren had put two heavy dumbbells at her sides. But now that it seems they had been used to prevent her from rolling over onto her side? In order to prevent her from dying early?

Pu...! He was so cute. She needed to finish laughing before she could sleep. In order to not let his efforts be in vain, she would try her best to not roll over to her side.

Was it fun? Mo Qianren stared at the message for a while before returning his phone to his nightstand, switching off the lights and closing his eyes.

In the dark, an unnoticeable smile climbed stealthily to the corner of his mouth. Perhaps the man himself did not even notice it.
......

The following day.

Having changed into a neatly-ironed new school uniform, a beautiful girl in delicate makeup and went off to school with a warm smile.

It was very early when Mu Rulan arrived at her office. When she saw Shu Min sitting behind the desk, she realized then that she hadn't taken back over Shu Min's work.

Shu Min was startled by the sudden movement at the door, an unexpected figure coming into her view.

Mu Rulan smiled generously. "Good morning."

Shu Min, taken aback, stood up. "Why are you here?"

"I forgot that the handover isn't complete, so I've come to work."

Shu Min frowned and glanced at Mu Rulan's feet, her eyes flickering through complex emotions. "For the sake of your recent recovery, it's better for you to rest more. There's no need to rush for the student council. I'm used to handling the workload already."

Mu Rulan came to a standstill, looking back at Shu Min. Shu Min moved her gaze to the side, looking a little guilty.

"As you know, the next semester is the final semester for the seniors. The new president of the student council should be elected this semester so that they can learn and ask for help when needed," Mu Rulan said, walking to the window and leaning against it with a smile.

"You mean you want to... delegate your power?" Shu Min furrowed her brows.

"How is this delegating? It's just something to help inject fresh blood into the student council."

Shu Min still disagreed. In her opinion, what Mu Rulan was trying to do was no different than dissolving and delegating her power. Liu Silan High School implemented a system of student autonomy in which the words of the president were strong enough to determine the future of the students.

And now she wanted to delegate and let others stand at the head? What a joke, they hadn't even yet graduated! She would never agree to this before their graduation day.

"But then no one would be able to assist the new president when they need help," Mu Rulan said, looking rather worried.

"How is it possible that a president voted into office by the students would be unable to handle things properly? Even if he's an imbecile, he should know how to refer to predecessors' solutions to tackle relevant problems. Don't forget that when we ourselves stepped into our current positions, the seniors left behind an enormous mess for us."

"But I already made the announcement before our trip to Ziyuan High School and many of our juniors have already prepared to present their skills to us," Mu Rulan said, finding herself in a difficult position.

"Anyway, as the vice president, I don't agree!" Shu Min said unhappily. "We're still in charge of Liu Silan now. What can they do? Don't worry, I'll take care of it. You don't need to worry about this!"

Then she sat down to continue read through documents.

Mu Rulan sat at the windowsill, looking at Shu Min with a gentle smile pulling on to her face.
......

Mo Qianren received the latest report from the police early in the morning. After going through several hoops, they found the factory that produced the special thread and it was beyond even their own imagination.

It was only when they went to that place that he understood why.

It was a three-story factory building, its grounds paved with a neatly arranged floor.

Though it seemed insignificant, after some investigation, it was found that the threads the factory produced were exported to foreign countries. The price of the threads were slightly cheaper than that of piano threads, but better in quality. Many people tended to choose this thread for use in many expensive musical instruments as it gave out a more melodious sound.

The owner of the factory was a middle-aged man who looked as though he was from northeast China. He was tall and ordinary, with fierce eyes but a surprisingly patient and kind attitude to the staff.

They brought him to the police station for some perfunctory record-taking. Mo Qianren didn't involve himself in the interrogation, sitting to the side and observing his facial expressions. He noticed that when asked if anyone bought these threads in bulk, his eyelids flickered down as he denied very quickly: "The threads at our factory are only sold abroad. We don't sell it inside the country."

The man was lying. Or rather, he was hiding something.