From Nun to Real Heiress: Expert at Turning the Tables

Chapter 1024: 479 Exploding Pot_3 Chapter 1024: 479 Exploding Pot_3 After completing the reading, the scan begins.

All the audience are looking forward to this moment.

Outside the Police Department, after the ringleader was arrested, the remaining people didn’t disperse but gathered on their own and started to watch the broadcast with great interest.

Tabitha Parker smirked, “What’s so interesting about a dead person?

It’s still two eyes, a nose, a mouth.”

Charlotte Aria stared at the screen tightly, silently clenching her fists.

Entering the final countdown, the audience spontaneously followed along.

“Three, two, one…”

As the scanning wave gradually faded, a face unexpectedly came into view.

...

Sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes, a handsome nose, well-proportioned lips, thin cheeks, yet sharp features.

Although it is a model calculated meticulously with data, slightly stiff in appearance, it is not difficult to see, this is a handsome man.

His eyes are like a deep ocean, hiding a touch of sadness.

Likened to a bottomless whirlpool, effortlessly drawing people in and completely sinking.

Just as everyone was exclaiming at the man’s handsomeness, they quietly noticed something unusual.

—— My goodness, isn’t this Anton Cook with his bangs up?

Isn’t he too similar?

—— Uh…

Is this a joke from the staff?

We all know that Anton Cook is handsome, but this kind of joke can’t be played, it’s disrespectful to the ancients, and it’s also disrespectful to Anton Cook.

—— Although he looks like Anton Cook, I feel that there is a difference between the two.

Anton Cook’s eyes are not so sad.

——Can everyone clarify the order of events?

It’s Anton Cook who looks like him.

——Rumor has it that Anton Cook is on the spot.

I wonder what he thinks when he sees this scenario.

——Poor Sullivan, an unjust disaster.

——Maybe he is reincarnated?

Oh no, I have to go to the temple to pray, the more I talk, the more frightened I become.

It is unknown how shocked the audience was, but the network has completely exploded.

Vincent Linggo looked at the face displayed on the screen behind him and unconsciously stiffened.

Even Anton Cook himself was stunned for a moment.

Snowy Gartia looked curiously at Anton Cook and hooked her lips: “A collision of faces.”

The always silent Max Gartia clasped his hands together and silently called out the name of Buddha.

Loretta exclaimed in surprise: “Isn’t this the Third Young Master of The Cooks’ Family?

Those experts wouldn’t make such a low-level mistake.

But this resemblance is too strong.”

Catherine Liam dropped the half-peeled orange she was holding onto the carpet.

The orange rolled to someone’s feet, hitting a leather shoe.

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The man bent down to pick up the orange.

Berkley quickly spoke: “Sir, you’re back.” He walked over to take the document bag and suit jacket from the man’s arm.

Matthew Aria subconsciously looked at the TV and was stunned for a moment.

“Isn’t this…

the young master of The Cook’s Family?”

He had just had an idea yesterday, and today he saw this young master on TV.

Has the big data algorithm advanced to the point where it can predict what he’s thinking?

With more attention, he asked, “What show is he on?”

Catherine Liam laughed: “What show?

This is a press conference from the Cultural Relics Bureau.

The body of a three hundred-year-old man was found in a villa in Pethkids.

And this is the restored face of the corpse.

In my opinion, this young master Cook is quite unlucky, looking exactly like a dead man.

That’s super unlucky.”

Suddenly, Catherine Liam felt a chill on her neck.

Turning her head, she saw the old lady, the look without focus made her feel scared.

Catherine quickly looked away, her heart pounding.

Matthew Aria frowned and scolded: “What’s this nonsense?”

Catherine Liam secretly rolled her eyes, looked at the clock on the wall: “It’s almost eight o’clock, why hasn’t Charlotte come back?

No, I have to call her.” Upon finishing, she stood up and hurriedly left.

Matthew Aria became interested, sat down on the sofa, and watched the TV seriously.

“Three hundred years ago, wasn’t that during the reign of Emperor Moon of Literary Dynasty?

I remember my mother wrote an essay about the Yue Dynasty.”

Matthew Aria looked at Madam Aria, the old lady sitting in a wheelchair, neatly dressed, her hair neatly combed.

Despite a few strands of silver, they did not affect the old lady’s dignified and noble temperament.

Sitting there, she naturally exuded aura of authority.

His foster mother is a legitimate descendant of the royal family of the Yue Dynasty.

Madam Aria faintly responded, and instructed: “Berkley, I’m tired, take me back to the room.”

Meanwhile, at Manplatte Temple in Lostswa, behind the mountain.

A sigh came from a secluded Zen Room.