Although he was angry inside, William Foster still answered his son's question.

"That's great..."

Henry Foster couldn't help but cheer.

"You... you're going to drive me mad, aren't you? Tell me honestly, who put you up to this? Why can't you use your head? How could you dare do something like this!"

William Foster's face was turning green.

Henry Foster let out a long sigh of relief, as if a weight had finally been lifted from his heart.

He was just worrying about how to expand the impact of this matter when Secretary Rowe came to "help."

"Dad, you don't need to worry about this. I'll handle it."

After a moment, Henry Foster said.

"You'll handle it? That's quite a boast. How will you handle it? Are you the provincial party secretary or a central leader? Can you really handle it? Aren't you already suspended for self-reflection?"

William Foster was so angry he could hardly stand it, practically roaring his questions.

"Dad, as they say, 'military tactics have no constant form, water has no constant shape.' In politics, nothing is certain!"

Henry Foster smiled faintly and spoke softly.

Chapter 7: The Party Secretary's Emergency Summons

Henry Foster had originally planned to rest at home for a few days, but in life, things rarely go as one wishes. Just as the atmosphere in the living room of the Fan family was tense, the phone on the coffee table suddenly rang.

William Foster still wore a stern face, sitting there smoking in silence, ignoring it completely.

Lily Grant saw how Old Foster was acting and hesitated, unsure whether she should answer the phone.

Henry Foster smiled, stood up, and prepared to walk over to the coffee table.

William Foster glared at him, then reached out and grabbed the receiver.

"Hello!"

William Foster gruffly answered.

"Hello, is this Magistrate Foster? This is Charles Lee."

On the other end, a refined voice came through, with a hint of pretentiousness.

William Foster immediately straightened up, forcing a smile onto his face, and replied as gently as possible, "Hello, Director Lee."

Charles Lee was the secretary to the prefectural party secretary Gavin Grant, and his official position was deputy director of the prefectural committee office. Generally speaking, Charles Lee rarely called the homes of lower-level cadres. William Foster guessed that Secretary Grant wanted to "hold someone accountable" for the incident of Henry Foster altering Qiu Mingshan's article.

This matter was indeed infuriating.

"Hehe, hello, Magistrate Foster. Here's the thing, may I ask if comrade Henry Foster has already returned home?"

William Foster's eyebrows rose slightly; he hadn't expected Charles Lee to call about Henry Foster's whereabouts. He couldn't help but glance at Henry Foster, then nodded and replied, "Yes, Director Lee, he's home."

"Is he with you now? If so, please have comrade Henry Foster take the call."

Once again, "comrade Henry Foster."

Charles Lee was taking a strictly official tone.

William Foster was even more surprised, not knowing why Charles Lee was specifically looking for Henry Foster. Strictly speaking, it probably wasn't Charles Lee looking for Henry Foster, but rather Gavin Grant seeking him. But at this moment, William Foster couldn't hesitate, so he handed the phone to Henry Foster.

"Hello, Director Lee."

Although Henry Foster hadn't heard Charles Lee's voice, he could guess it was him.

At this time, for the prefectural party secretary Secretary Grant to seek him out was quite normal. Gavin Grant definitely wanted to get to the bottom of things.

"Hello, comrade Henry Foster, this is Charles Lee. Secretary Gavin Grant wants to see you immediately... Yes, right away."

"Director Lee, I'm currently in Yuyang..."

Charles Lee replied without hesitation, "That's fine, please have Magistrate Foster arrange a car for you. Come back immediately, Secretary Grant will be waiting for you in his office."

"Alright."

Henry Foster didn't refuse and agreed readily.

Charles Lee then spoke with William Foster again, reiterating Secretary Gavin Grant's instructions and asking him to arrange a car to send Henry Foster back to the prefecture immediately.

"Is something wrong?"

Lily Grant was nervous.

The prefectural party secretary Secretary Grant was such an important figure, and now he was urgently summoning Henry Foster, this "kid"—he must be taking Henry Foster's incident very seriously. That couldn't be a good thing.

William Foster let out a long sigh and said, "If it's a blessing, it's not a curse; if it's a curse, you can't avoid it! Let's leave it to fate!"

Seeing his father so dispirited, Henry Foster said, "Dad, don't worry, it won't be a big problem. After all, it was just an article."

"That's easy for you to say! If this goes wrong, it could become a political incident!"

William Foster was not so optimistic. But since the matter had already happened, blaming Henry Foster further was pointless. William Foster shook his head, picked up the phone, called the county party committee duty office, and instructed them to send a car.

Soon, the county's car pool sent a military jeep to the building downstairs.

At that time, in the more prosperous coastal regions, these old military jeeps were already being phased out, but in the interior, especially in remote and impoverished areas, jeeps were still a common means of transportation. Only cadres of a certain rank could enjoy such treatment.

"Dad, Mom, I'm heading back to the prefecture now."

Henry Foster got up and walked out.