Her face turned red instantly, looking extremely bad.
Ye Hao had expected Li Qin to be in this attitude. This old woman was always like this.
“I’m looking for Mo Yixuan. Where is he?”
“He is not here!”
Li Qin sneered. That kind of disgust could even been seen from her frown.
“Go away, you are not welcome here.” She swung her hand and then her crutch was cast onto the ground hard.
Some time ago, she fell again, which worsened her sickness again. Now there was some trouble with her legs and feet, so she could not walk steadily, nor did she have the strength to quarrel.
Ye Hao, however, did not move a single step.
“I look for him because he builds the tomb for my ex-wife. Well, please give a call and ask him back as soon as possible.”
Ye Hao tried to be polite, not intending to quarrel or fight, nor was he in the mood to.
When Li Qin heard him referring to “build the tomb”, there was some complex emotions flickering in her eyes. But soon her face was pulled long again, and she said in a quite unfriendly voice.
“The tomb has been completed, Ye Hao. Do remember that He Xiyan went missing and died after divorcing with you. It has nothing to do with us Mo family. We build a tomb for her because of Yuanyuan.”
Li Qin said so unhappily, trying hard to disassociate from something. That former daughter-in-law had left Mo family for two years. Even though she committed suicide, she believed, it had nothing to do with Mo family.
Ye Hao did not know why Li Qin said so, only feeling some pain in his heart. He did not refute, just turning around and looking at the heavy rain outside. Sometimes there were even lightening and thunder.
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His mood was just like the bad weather at the moment.
The gate of Mo family opened again and in came a black Rolls-Royce.
After a while, a man walked out of the garage.
It was a man with the same gloomy look, on whose face no trace of smile was perceivable.
Mo Yixuan had lost much weight. The clothes he wore appeared at least one size larger. He bit his lip. The dark circles around his eyes suggested that he, looking haggard, had not had a good rest recently.
Seeing Ye Hao standing at the door, he walked forward and made a gesture of invitation.
Ye Hao followed him to the hall on the first floor.
The television in the hall was still on, in which a recent hit urban comedy was on play which Li Qin just watched.
Mo Yixuan picked up the remote control and turned the TV off directly.
Then he pointed to the sofa nearby, motioning Ye Hao to sit down.
The two men looked at each other, still bearing a grudge against each other. Such hatred, however, was weakened by great sorrow.
After all, even if they killed each other, they could not change the fact that their beloved one had gone missing and was very likely to have died already.
“What did you salvage? Why did you build the tomb without finding the body?” Ye Hao asked directly, whose voice was filled with a trace of huskiness and anxiety.
In recent days, he was quite worried, spending every day as if it were a year long. On the one hand, he wanted to get information from the police. On the other hand, he was afraid to receive anything he did not want to hear. He was afraid that one day he would be asked by the police to identify the corpse.
Mo Yixuan sat on the sofa like a sculpture. His son, Yuanyuan, was playing with toys on the ground not far away. He watched his son, the only child between him and He Xiyan, his eyes full of freezing pain and misery.
“She is dead.” He suddenly said in a heavy voice, which seemed to be forced out if his throat.
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