The magnetic area of the floppy disk had no obvious signs of wear or scratches, and although it had been over twenty years, it still looked quite new.
Li Qiao glanced at Shang Yu, then inserted the floppy disk into the card reader.
Perhaps because it had been so long, the computer screen continuously displayed the ssage that it was reading.
Li Qiao was not in a hurry, leaning back in her chair and stretching her joints, she looked sideways and asked, "If this floppy disk were damaged, could it be repaired?"
Even if an iron box can block electromagnetism and radiation, it does not rule out the possibility of the floppy disk being demagnetized due to sitting unused for too long.
Shang Yu curved his thin lips, "Yes, after repairing, the data stored on the floppy disk will not be lost."
"Oh," Li Qiao responded indifferently, then glanced at the computer screen, just as the disk read ter filled up to one hundred percent.
Imdiately after, a white pop-up window appeared with three encrypted folders inside.
Li Qiao raised her eyebrows, her gaze slightly intense, "It’s actually not damaged."
The man pinched the velvet cloth on the desk and spoke with a profound tone, "Antistatic velvet cloth and resistive iron box are indeed good thods to preserve floppy disks."
Li Qiao looked at the white velvet cloth, then drew her gaze back and started to crack the folders’ passwords.
In less than three minutes, the encrypted folder was unlocked. Li Qiao opened the first one, which was a video file.
She opened the video with a certain expectation, and a dark image ca into view.
Oh, it wasn’t taken by Jing Yilan.
Li Qiao enlarged the page, and the ti was displayed in the upper left corner—it was the twelfth of August, thirty years ago.
"Is this surveillance?" Li Qiao narrowed her eyes. Due to the black-and-white quality being slightly blurred, and because it was at night, the footage was so dark that even the road contours were barely visible.
Soon, two beams of car headlights approached from a distance.
A person got out of the car, wearing a gentleman’s hat and holding a gun in one hand, aiming straight ahead and pulling the trigger.
The surveillance footage had no sound; only the red flash emitted by the gun muzzle could be seen.
The next instant, the person raised his head and moved his arm to shoot at the surveillance cara at the intersection.
The footage ended there.
The entire surveillance lasted less than forty seconds, the most critical being the last three seconds when the man with the hat looked up at the cara, revealing his face on screen.
Li Qiao rewound the surveillance and paused it at the thirty-six-second mark, enlarging the image to carefully identify the face of the shooter.
The person looked quite young, his facial features not particularly prominent, and appeared to be of Asian descent.
At this mont, Shang Yu beside her had deep eyes and a smirk on his lips, "The Old Duke, Xiao Hongdao."
Li Qiao touched her chin, gesturing towards the surveillance tistamp in the upper left corner, "It seems, it’s ti to look into the story of this day."
Yi Lan would have kept this surveillance for a reason; it must be important.
Whether Xiao Hongdao killed soone or not, this piece of surveillance was enough to prove he was suspected of intentional harm.
Nobility reigns above the common people, esteed and admired, yet the British Imperial nobility is also most afraid of one thing, scandal.
Li Qiao downloaded the video and forwarded it to her own email address, then quickly opened the second folder, which was a Word docunt.
The content was brief, just two pages, yet the information was staggering.
The first page was a very old identity docunt issued by the British Commonwealth Governnt for nobility, with the handwritten date in the bottom right corner being sixty-one years ago.
Duke Charlman, Paul Taglor Cherman, was a standard na for a British Imperial citizen.
The docunt moved on to the second page, which was also an identity docunt for nobility, dated fifty-five years ago, but the content was significantly different.
Duke Charlman, Zu Xiao, this is a Chinese phonetic surna.
The two docunts were identical except for differences in the Duke’s na and age.
Ancestor Xiao, the father of Xiao Hongdao and the grandfather of Xiao Yehui.
Li Qiao compared the two docunts repeatedly and after a mont of thought, she speculated, "So it seems that the one originally ennobled as Duke Charlman was not the Xiao family, but this person... Paul Taylor Charlman."
Shang Yu leaned back lazily in his chair, his eyes deep like the ocean, "Over fifty years ago, the Xiao family withdrew from Parma."
Li Qiao released the mouse, furrowed her brow thoughtfully, "Both of these docunts co from the British Commonwealth Governnt; they don’t look like forgeries."
The title of Marquis Lawrence that she had given to Shang Yu also had such aristocratic identity information.
Shang Yu’s dry palm rested on the back of her neck, tilting his jaw towards the computer, "Look at the third folder."
Li Qiao focused, opened the last folder, which was a simple notepad program.
Inside were just two Chinese characters: "swaddling clothes."
Li Qiao leaned on her forehead, sighed faintly, "I don’t even know if my mom threw those things away."
Clearly, Jing Yilan has split the items into two.
The other part was likely tucked away in her baby swaddling clothes.
No wonder Uncle Mu Aoxian had been fruitless in his search for so many years; even the Xiao family probably couldn’t find it.
It had been split in two all along.
Shang Yu watched Li Qiao composedly, saw her eyelashes droop slightly and her expression beco sullen, and couldn’t help but curl his fingertip and scrape her cheek, "She probably hasn’t."
Li Qiao forced a smile, glanced at the ti; it should be around six in the afternoon back ho.
She picked up her phone and directly dialed Duan Shuyuan’s number.
At the sa ti, Duan Shuyuan was having dinner. Upon seeing the call from Li Qiao, she happily answered, "Sweetheart, are you back yet?"
Li Qiao curved her lips and said not yet. After chatting with her mother for a few minutes, she changed the subject, "Mom, I need to ask you sothing."
Duan Shuyuan sensed the unusual seriousness in Li Qiao’s voice, paused slightly, "What’s the matter? Tell ."
Li Qiao hesitated for a few seconds, then asked straightforwardly, "Do you still have my swaddling clothes from when I was little?"
On the other end of the phone, Duan Shuyuan fell silent for a mont, then opened her mouth and honestly replied, "I do."
She paused, then carefully probed, "Qiaoqiao, what’s wrong?"
"Nothing, I just wanted to take a look."
Duan Shuyuan furrowed her brows, looking at the exquisite food on the table, her gaze growing distant, "I’ve kept all your things from when you were little, they’re in the safe in my makeup cabinet, when do you want them? Shall I bring them to you?"
Li Qiao’s gaze complicated, she swallowed hard, "Mom, no need, keep them for for now, I’ll co back and have a look in a few days."
"Alright, mom will wait for you to co back."
After hanging up the phone, Li Qiao sighed, turned her eyes to et Shang Yu’s gaze, her eyes dark as ink, "The floppy disk contains evidence, so what’s in my swaddling clothes must be the crux."
The two pieces of evidence seed to prove that the Xiao family’s dukedom had an unclear origin.
If the Xiao family took over and beca Duke Charlman, what happened to the original Paul Taylor Charlman?
It couldn’t possibly be like Marquis Lawrence who sold his dukedom as well.
At that mont, Shang Yu’s brows raised slightly, he took her hand and kneaded it in his own, "Ready to return to the country?"
Li Qiao looked at their intertwined fingers and smiled faintly, "Wait three more days."
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