The campus festival came to an end, and the fashion show of the girls' club was rated as the most popular and outstanding event of this year's campus festival, and Chi Zitong was also named an excellent designer.

Looking at the trophy in his hand, the corners of Chi Zitong's mouth twitched.

However, this is the intention of Yun Tong and the others, and she doesn't feel that this trophy is insignificant.

As for Jiang Mo.

Since that day, she has withdrawn from the girls' club, and she is also unknown in school, and whenever she sees her, she will bow her head, pretend to be a transparent person, and pass by her in a hurry.

Chi Zitong knew that it was because of her own identity.

As for why Jiang Mo didn't announce her identity, she was not interested in knowing.

After doing everything, Chi Zitong once again set his sights on his identity.

As for her identity, she has already guessed seventy-seven eighty-eight.

The most important clue is still in Mrs. Xiao.

Three days after the end of the campus festival, Mr. Xiao also returned home, he was extremely busy this year, and Mrs. Xiao also shared a lot of work for him, and he was still busy.

Now that I finally have free time, I go home to spend time with my loved ones.

On the night of Mr. Xiao's return, Chi Zitong also put down anything, and she sneaked into Mr. Xiao's study.

Chi Zitong turned on the light.

Mr. Xiao's study is large, with a full set of sofas, as well as rows of bookshelves and desks.

There are a lot of books on the shelves about business, and politics and so on.

But mostly working documents, newspapers of the business world.

Chi Zitong carefully rummaged through the bookshelves, gently opened the newspapers, books, and files, and returned them to their original places after reading them.

After an hour to no avail, the study was quite large, but that was compared to the ordinary study.

In fact, the study is only half the size of the living room.

The main thing is that there are too many things, and it is difficult to find.

Chi Zitong locked her eyes on the desk, this time, she was more careful.

Tiptoed his feet over and flipped through the papers on the table without making a sound.

It's bad, but she has to do it in order to find something that has something to do with her identity.

She couldn't read the documents anyway.

Another half hour passed, and there was still no result.

Just as Chi Zitong sighed and turned to leave, his eyes turned casually, and he saw a small box made of fine wood in the small corner next to the bookshelf.

There was a lock on the chest, and the lock had been piled up with a thick layer of dust, and it was impossible to see the original color.

Chi Zitong wiped off the lock with a thick layer of ash, and the silver color was revealed.

But the box was locked, and Chi Zitong remembered that she seemed to have seen a small silver key in the drawer of her desk.

I don't know if it's the key to this lock.

Chi Zitong returned to his desk, opened the drawer, picked up the small key in the small box and walked back to the box.

Chi Zitong crouched down and inserted the key into the lock hole.

"Click-"

The box opened.

Chi Zitong opened the box with a little excitement, and there was nothing in it, just a small box quietly placed.

The small box was unlocked, and she opened it at once.

When he saw the contents inside, Chi Zitong's pupils shrank suddenly, and his hands trembled a little as he picked up the piece of paper inside.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a car outside, and Chi Zitong hurriedly took away the pieces of paper and put the box key back in its original place.

Through the window, a middle-aged man can be seen getting out of the car.

It's Mr. Xiao.

He's back?!

Chi Zitong was a little surprised, but he was surprised. She shoved the paper into her bosom and hurriedly turned off the light and left the study.

Chi Zitong returned to the room and opened the paper, which was a yellowed newspaper.

The time is sixteen or seventeen years ago.

Chi Zitongzai carefully opened the newspaper, and every time she looked at a line, her eyes became cold.

More than ten minutes had passed after reading the newspaper, and Chi Zitong put down the newspaper. At this time, there was no emotion in her eyes, and her cold eyes were as cold as an ice cellar.

Her hands were clenched into fists, and her palms were already deeply imprinted with red nail marks.