Chapter 895: Chapter 875: I’ll feed you with the lower part
After identifying the corpse, the Huo Family group walked out of the police station.
Huo Zhenyang instructed his assistant to accompany the old man back to the hotel to rest.
Huo Tianpei, overwhelmed by shock and grief, was still very frail. Sitting in a wheelchair, he didn’t say a word, letting his son handle everything.
Su Yan couldn’t wait to leave the police station. She helped the old man get into the car, turned around, and got in herself without looking back.
Watching as Huo Tianpei’s car drove away from the police station, the two exchanged glances.
"Did you see Su Yan’s demeanor when she identified the corpse? She looked absolutely terrified." Jiayi whispered.
"Fear isn’t legal proof of someone’s guilt," Huo Zhenyang narrowed his eyes slightly. "Besides, even if it’s proven that Zhenxuan’s death was orchestrated by Su Yan, she wouldn’t face criminal charges. She didn’t directly kill Zhenxuan."
Jiayi’s breath hitched—he was right.
If Second Young Master really died as a result of Su Yan’s plan, then while she didn’t physically kill him, her actions were far scarier than the act of murder itself.
She exhaled softly.
Jiayi didn’t remember what Su Yan had been like back in their school days, but from Anya’s descriptions, Su Yan seemed warm, kind, and low-key.
Jiayi didn’t doubt Su Yan’s previous character—after all, why else would she have been concerned about Jiayi’s injuries, accompanied her to meet Ye Shiman, and nearly disfigured herself for Jiayi’s sake?
But why had someone with a decent disposition taken such a dark and insane path?
Perhaps it was Jiayi’s fault. Back then, in trying to compensate Su Yan, she should never have sent her to America.
It was precisely because Su Yan went to America that she was drawn to the outside world, drew closer to the Huo Family, and could no longer tolerate an ordinary life. She became obsessed with standing out, which ultimately led her to an irreversible point.
————
Because of the Huo Family’s turmoil and the need to handle the aftermath of Zhenxuan’s death, Huo Zhenyang took a few days off work.
Two days later, the Huo Family retrieved Huo Zhenxuan’s remains from the police station and transported them to the funeral home for cremation.
Jiayi accompanied him.
After leaving the funeral home, they got into the car.
He drove slowly without saying much.
It wasn’t until they returned to Disheng that the car stopped. Jiayi noticed the man’s handsome profile tinged with a sinister chill and heavy fatigue.
Even under the bright midday sun, the sunlight seemed unable to warm his expression.
Her heart was stirred—for the past two days, she had focused solely on investigating Second Young Master’s death, forgetting that the deceased was, after all, his brother.
Despite years of overt and covert rivalry, strained relations, and Second Young Master’s ruthless schemes to kill him, Zhenxuan was still his flesh and blood.
Outsiders often said he was cold-hearted and merciless, snuffing out Zhenxuan’s ambitions for the group, ruining Zhenxuan’s reputation, and sending him to serve life in a prison in Mexico.
But Jiayi understood that if he could send Zhenxuan to prison, he could’ve easily orchestrated his death.
Yet he showed mercy, likely because Zhenxuan was his family, proving he wasn’t devoid of compassion toward his kin.
Now that Zhenxuan had died so tragically, he was presumably far from happy about it.
She saw him unbuckle his seatbelt and couldn’t help saying, "It’s over now."
If he wanted someone to confide in, she’d quietly stay by his side as his emotional sounding board.
The thoughts in his deep eyes shifted, and he curled his lips, leaning over slightly. "What, trying to cheer me up? Alright, I’ll give you the chance."
As he spoke, his strong arm slid behind her back, encircled her waist, and helped her undo her seatbelt.
She felt him clearly taking advantage of the situation again.
It’s impossible to maintain too much kindness in front of this man...
Seeing that he wasn’t in the best of moods, she wanted to chat with him, but he always preferred... physical reassurance.
Before she could react, he got out of the car, walked around to the passenger side, and scooped her up, heading toward the front door.
In the courtyard, a servant tending the flowerbeds witnessed their young master stride past like a tiger descending the mountain, carrying Jiayi in his arms. Stunned, she nearly dropped her scissors, quickly averted her gaze, and pretended not to see.
Jiayi smelled the scorching heat emanating off this beast and said, half-jokingly, half-annoyed: "In broad daylight? Are you out of your mind? Put me down. Auntie Li will see us later."
When this man got excited, he didn’t care whether it was day or night—or whether anyone was home.
He frowned. "Forgot again? We have to seize every moment now."
She froze briefly but immediately understood what he meant. The sooner she got pregnant, the sooner they could persuade the old man to agree to the remarriage...
Still, he didn’t have to "plant seeds" so diligently...
"Wait. Later—let’s talk later. I... I’m hungry," she nudged him lightly.
His long legs halted. They’d left in such a hurry earlier that morning that she hadn’t eaten much breakfast. Reluctantly, he set her down.
Fine, he’d let her fill up her stomach first because "making children" was physically demanding.
If she fainted from exhaustion halfway through, that wouldn’t be good.
Once they entered the house, Huo Zhenyang called out, "Auntie Li."
She liked Auntie Li’s cooking, and when at home, he’d typically let Auntie Li handle the meals.
A maid entered and said, "Auntie Li went grocery shopping. Does Young Master have any instructions?"
Jiayi thought he’d ask someone else to cook, but unexpectedly, Huo Zhenyang said, "It’s fine. You can leave."
He dismissed the maid, stood up, removed his black jacket, and headed into the kitchen.
Noticing what was happening, Jiayi followed him like a curious little shadow.
Huo Zhenyang stood by the stove, rolling up the sleeves of his expensive shirt slightly and leaving the collar loosely open, as he whisked some eggs.
Steam hissed as water boiled in the pot.
It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him cook. Back when she worked as a maid at Disheng, he’d personally made breakfast a few times when criticizing her subpar cooking skills.
Even so, watching him cook again brought an inexplicable allure.
His tall, muscular frame stood by the stove, with a sturdy back, firm and toned hips, and arms bearing a healthy bronzed complexion. Beneath his thin shirt, faintly defined chest muscles teased the imagination.
His sharp profile, meticulously focused on the food preparation, was captivating.
She swallowed audibly, her stomach growling at just the wrong moment.
He heard it and turned his head. "That hungry? Wait ten minutes."
Her cheeks flushed red, and to distract herself from embarrassment, she asked, "What are you making?"
"I’m making noodles for you. Is that okay?" He smirked slyly, his lips tinged with a devilish edge.
Why did that line sound so suggestive? She muttered under her breath.
When the tomato and egg noodle soup was ready, she sat at the kitchen table to eat under his watchful gaze.
She twirled small strands of noodles with her chopsticks, eating them bit by bit.
"Weren’t you hungry? Why are you eating so slowly?" Huo Zhenyang frowned, seeing her deliberate pace.
At this rate, how long would it take? The little woman obviously did it on purpose.
She wasn’t stupid. Maintaining her slow pace, she continued eating unhurriedly.
She ate the noodles, but he was obviously waiting to devour her.
With a "bang," he dragged a tall chair closer to himself, then wrapped her waist and pulled her onto his lap.
