The True Mistress Has A Thousand Hidden Identities

Huo Baiyuan stepped inside, trying to find traces of another man's life in the whole room.

He walked to the closet, opened it, and saw that there was a row of clothes hanging in it. The light and elegant dresses were in the style of the woman in Song Lishu. Then he cares about the shirts, coats, and sweaters, which are obviously men's.

Two couple pajamas were neatly folded and placed underneath.

Judging from everything in the house, she did live here with another man, as warm as a small family.

Looking at Qin Miao, his expression was a little surprised. He never expected that Song Lishu, who has always been gentle and kind, would do such a thing.

Huo Baiyuan walked to the kitchen again, pulled back the cabinet, and saw that there were a few ordinary and cheap plates inside, and two bowls placed side by side, with two pairs of chopsticks sticking aside.

There is no shortage of food, drink and clothing.

Huo Baiyuan closed the cabinet door heavily, raised his eyes, and swept the room around, as if he could imagine how she and the man entered the door together, stood in front of the shoe rack and put on those couple slippers, and how they were together Cooking in the kitchen, sitting face to face at the dining table to eat, after the meal, take a shower, put on the two couples pajamas, and then hug to sleep on that cozy bed.

Fortunately, he thought that she was really calm about herself, but it turned out to be just an illusion.

Huo Baiyuan strode to the side of the bed, suddenly kicked something with his toe, and there was a thud under the bed.

He bent down, put his hand under the bed, and took out an iron box from the bottom of the bed, an ordinary box, nothing new on the outside, but a lock, which was heavy, as if it were full of things.

Huo Baiyuan pulled the lock and couldn't open it. He was not interested in learning more about it. He simply threw the box back under the bed and kicked it.

"Let's go." Huo Baiyuan turned and walked outside the house.

Qin Miao returned to his mind and hurriedly followed behind him.

Walking out of the dilapidated residential building, Huo Baiyuan suddenly stopped and raised his head slightly. He noticed the surveillance camera hanging at the door. He narrowed his eyes and said coldly: "Check out the surveillance footage of Song Lishu and the man entering and leaving here. "

Walked into the study, Huo Baiyuan just sat down, the phone rang, and a text message came out. It was the boss of another group. He had a good relationship with him. He heard the news of Song Lishu's death, sent a text of condolence and asked about the funeral. time.

Regarding such calls to comfort his bereaved wife, he has received many calls today.

funeral?

He didn't plan to hold any funeral for Song Lishu, wasting time and energy.

But now it seems that this funeral may be used to secretly win over the contacts of other families, which will help him to obtain the Huo family's inheritance rights in the future.

Thinking of this, Huo Baiyuan called Qin Miao.

The funeral was held as scheduled three days later. There was an endless stream of people who came to mourn. Song Lishu's last photograph was placed above the hall. Huo Baiyuan stood aside, his face was pale, his eyes were bloodshot, and it looked like he hadn't rested for several days. All right.

He glanced at Song Lishu's photo. The woman in the photo was black and white, but the bright smile still seemed to be colorful.

From her death to the present, Huo Baiyuan didn't take a look at her, and didn't even know where she was buried.

A middle-aged man walked in front of Huo Baiyuan, patted him on the shoulder, and calmly said: "Sorry."

Huo Baiyuan lowered his head, his long eyelashes drooped, his eyes were covered, his face looked a little haggard.

The reporters took the shutters one after another, taking pictures of Huo Baiyuan's seemingly sad appearance.

Qin Miao was busy greeting the guests, and accidentally saw this scene of Huo Baiyuan.