Chapter 926: Chapter 906: I’m Not Good, I’m Naughty
"Hi." Jiayi’s face lit up as she quietly greeted Little Doubao, who had popped his head out.
"Young master." The assistant hurried over, intending to close the door, but Little Doubao wore a serious expression and pointed at Jiayi.
The assistant understood he wanted to see Jiayi and quickly tried to persuade him: "Young master, the madam gave strict orders..."
Without another word, Little Doubao dashed out, grabbed Jiayi’s hand, and forcefully dragged her into the room.
"Young master, hey, you can’t do this! When the madam returns, she’ll scold me to death..."
Following Little Doubao inside, Jiayi glanced at the assistant and hushed him: "You don’t tell, I don’t tell, and if Little Doubao doesn’t tell, how will the madam find out? The louder you yell, the more people will hear, and she’ll know whether she was going to or not!"
The assistant sighed helplessly and finally kept his mouth shut: "Alright, Miss Chu, just be quick..."
Jiayi shut the door and took Little Doubao further into the room.
Seeing Jiayi come in, Little Doubao was visibly delighted. His eyes sparkled, and his cheeks flushed with a rosy glow.
Jiayi looked at Little Doubao. Although she found her suspicion hard to believe, she still crouched down and spoke earnestly:
"Little Doubao, I have a question for you. You need to answer me honestly, okay?"
Little Doubao’s big eyes gazed at Jiayi, as if he already knew what she wanted to ask. After a moment’s hesitation, he seemed nervous but still nodded.
"Su Yan’s mental state has suddenly deteriorated in the past few days. She keeps imagining things, saying someone has tampered with her belongings in the room or that she’s seen ghosts. Does this have anything to do with you?" Jiayi stared into his innocent, baby-like eyes.
Little Doubao was silent for several seconds, staring at Jiayi. His watery gaze flickered briefly before he lowered his head.
Jiayi was stunned—could Su Yan’s psychological unraveling truly be connected to Little Doubao?
"Little Doubao, I won’t tell anyone. If you trust me, you can tell me. If you don’t want to, I won’t blame you."
Little Doubao finally nodded.
"How did you do it?"
This time, Little Doubao did not hesitate. He turned around and pointed under his bed.
Jiayi went over, lifted the bedspread, and found a small storage box hidden underneath. She pulled it out and opened it, revealing a white medicine bottle, a woman’s wig, and a pair of women’s high heels.
She picked up the white medicine bottle, which had a label on it: "antidepressive-drugs."
It was a bottle of antidepressants, used to treat mental health disorders.
At the bottom, there was information about the source of the medication—it came from An Haokang’s lab.
Jiayi inhaled sharply: "You secretly took this last time I brought you to Dr. An’s lab, didn’t you?"
Little Doubao’s large eyes flickered with a trace of guilt, and he pressed his lips together, silently acknowledging it.
The antidepressant medication could cause significant psychological symptoms if taken by someone not prescribed. These might include nerve fatigue, insomnia, and excessive dreaming.
No wonder Su Yan had been exhausted, sleepy all the time, yet suffering from dreadful nightmares.
Jiayi inspected the bottle’s instructions and noticed a line at the bottom in English:
The most severe side effects included hallucinations, auditory illusions, and disturbances in perception.
She asked Little Doubao: "What is this medication? Do you know?"
Little Doubao glanced at the English lettering on the bottle: "I understand English."
Jiayi remembered that his foster parents were university professors with high educational backgrounds. Little Doubao had lived with them until he was four or five years old, so his education must have exceeded that of an average child. She couldn’t help but ask: "How did you make her take it?"
The old man and Su Yan were currently staying in a hotel, where their three daily meals were sent directly from the hotel’s kitchen—already prepared. Adding anything to the food would be difficult.
Little Doubao pointed to a glass of unfinished milk on his coffee table.
Jiayi understood now. Many people had the habit of drinking milk before bed, and Su Yan must have been one of them.
Since Little Doubao lived with her, it wouldn’t have been too difficult for him to slip the medication into her nightly glass of milk.
She picked up the wig, and her gaze tightened. It came from Disheng.
Due to work, Jiayi had brought several mannequin models into Disheng’s store to try on sample clothing for convenience.
This wig had originally belonged to one of those mannequin heads.
While Little Doubao was staying at Disheng, Zaizai must have led his cousin to see those mannequins.
He likely took the wig before leaving Disheng.
The high heels clearly belonged to Su Yan—Little Doubao must have taken them from her shoe closet.
A wealthy madam like Su Yan owned countless pairs of shoes; losing one pair wouldn’t even register to her.
High heels, wig, white clothing...
Jiayi glanced around at the white sheets casually draped across the hotel suite and finally understood.
Little Doubao must have dressed up in these items to visit Su Yan’s room late at night.
So, Su Yan’s so-called haunting was this all along.
Jiayi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry: "She said the room’s lights were on when she went to bed but turned off when she woke up. That was you, too?"
Little Doubao nodded.
So, it was Little Doubao who had persistently frightened Su Yan into consulting a psychologist.
Still, if Su Yan weren’t guilty herself, how could she have been scared into such a state?
Jiayi sighed lightly. This Little Doubao truly had an IQ of 175.
Though he was only six years old, he understood everything.
That day, he had overheard Jiayi and Su Yan’s conversation outside An Haokang’s lab and decided to exact revenge for the father he had never met.
Little Doubao saw Jiayi’s silence and assumed she was upset. His face flushed deeper, and he tugged at Jiayi’s sleeve, struggling to say a few words:
"I’m not good. I’m bad."
Jiayi felt a surge of emotion.
Children are like blank sheets of paper. They have no innate sense of good or evil—they become whatever the world exposes them to. Their love and hate are straightforward: they gravitate toward what they like and resist what they don’t.
Little Doubao knew Su Yan had wronged his biological father. With a child’s instinct, he played pranks to retaliate—it was only natural.
But Su Yan never would have expected to be thwarted by a six-year-old autistic child.
Jiayi gently stroked Little Doubao’s head and spoke softly: "Little Doubao, you’re not bad. I know you don’t like her. But now, you’re living with her. She’s your guardian. If she finds these things and realizes you’re the one tormenting her, it will be far too easy for her to retaliate against you and make your life miserable. So, let’s endure it for now, okay?"
Little Doubao seemed to understand her meaning and nodded.
...
After speaking with Little Doubao for a while, Jiayi put the items he had collected into a chocolate gift bag and left the room.
When she saw the assistant at the door, her gaze shifted slightly: "You’re not going to tell Madam Huo I came to see Little Doubao today, right?"
The assistant forced a smile: "I won’t. Don’t worry, Miss Chu."
Why would she create unnecessary trouble?
Jiayi carried the bag and left the hotel.
Driving away, Jiayi stared straight ahead, though her mind was scattered.
Evidence proving Su Yan killed Xiaolei had always been elusive—it was likely already destroyed.
Huo Zhenxuan was gone now too.
Maybe, through the incident of Su Yan being scared into seeing a psychologist by Little Doubao, there was a way to uncover the truth about Xiaolei’s murder?
