The True Mistress Has A Thousand Hidden Identities

The man glanced at his watch: "It's late, I should go back."

"Okay, I'll give it to you."

Shen Zhiyu and the man walked out of the fence side by side. The man put the little pudding on the safety seat in the car, helped him fasten the seat belt, and then straightened up to face Shen Zhiyu.

The man is half a head taller than Shen Zhiyu. At this time, he was looking down at Shen Zhiyu and said: "Jiyu, thank you for helping me take care of the little pudding. I want to invite you to dinner when I have time, can I?"

Shen Zhiyu's eyes are soft behind the lenses: "Of course it can."

The man laughed, said a few more words, then opened the door and got into the car, waved to Shen Zhiyu through the window, and then stepped on the accelerator and left.

Watching the Volkswagen leave until it disappeared at the corner of the street, Shen Zhiyu turned around, locked the fence, and walked into the small mansion.

He didn't notice that in the bushes opposite, there was a figure squatting. The man was holding the camera. The lens always followed Shen Zhiyu, snapping and snapping.

A few hours later, Jun's family and Xia Beiqing received an international letter. In a silent room, only a small lamp by the bed exuded a dim light.

Xia Beiqing sat on the edge of the bed, facing the French windows, and was enveloped in the light of the moonlight. He tore open the envelope and took out a stack of photos from it.

There is only one protagonist in all the photos, and that is Shen Zhiyu.

There are photos of him walking out of the gate, photos of him holding a kettle watering flowers outside a small western-style building, photos of him coming back with big bags and small bags after going to the supermarket, and photos of him sending a group of children out.

It's all trivial lives, and there is nothing special about it, but it is worth seeing Xia Beiqin back and forth repeatedly, without even letting go of a single detail.

Shen Zhiyu in the photo is still the same as before, wearing a neat and casual white shirt, his cuffs are gently rolled up, revealing his white wrists, his straight nose is framed with gold-rimmed glasses, and his eyes behind the lenses are smiling. , Always with his unique elegance and tenderness.

Xia Beiqin gently rubbed Shen Zhiyu's face in the photo with his fingertips, as if he could still feel his temperature through the photo.

He continued to flip through the remaining photos, suddenly, his eyes condensed, and one of them attracted attention.

In the photo, Shen Zhiyu was leaning against the door frame, holding a little nanny in his arms. The little nanny was holding a lollipop and sticking out her pink tongue, saliva dripping from the corners of her lips.

Xia Beiqing raised his eyebrows fiercely, and then turned back. He saw a picture of Shen Zhiyu that should have been the only one, but it had been a strange man for a long time.

The man wore a long windbreaker, shaved his head, and had a deep and cold outline. He was standing opposite Shen Zhiyu. He didn't know what he said. Shen Zhiyu tilted his eyebrows and smiled softly in the setting sun.

To Xia Beiqing, that smile was extremely dazzling.

Xia Beiqin's hand gripped the photo fiercely, and his pupils were shrinking inch by inch. In the dimness, a hot flame suddenly rose up, as if he was about to burn the photo.

His face was visibly distorted twice, he threw the photo aside, picked up the phone and dialed the number of the private investigator, gritted his teeth and asked viciously: "Who is the man in the photo!"

The private detective replied on the other end: "The man's name is Wei Heng, and he is a single father."

"Wei! Heng!" Xia Beiqin chewed the name in his mouth, wishing to tear it apart.