As soon as the two left the Civil Affairs Bureau, Secretary Qian followed Tang Bainian from a distance. When she heard a muffled thud as he sat down on the ground, she was almost scared to death. She ran a few steps toward him, but then seemed to hear a sobbing sound. She suddenly stopped, lowered her eyes, and sat back in the car.
On the bus.
Sun Rong kept glancing at the rearview mirror, seemingly wanting to say something but then stopping herself.
"Just say what you have to say," Yang Qingheng said calmly, noticing her gaze.
Sun Rong carefully observed her expression before speaking, "The detective you hired just called me."
"How is it?" Yang Qingheng sat up straight and looked at her seriously.
Sun Rong said, "The photographer was hired by Song Hengjue, but the detective found out that he went to Qingyi Hotel a week ago, and Secretary Qian was also eating there at the time."
really.
Yang Qingheng stared silently out the window, showing not even a hint of surprise.
She had thought the photographer looked familiar before, and only the day before yesterday did she remember that she had seen him from afar once when she went to deliver food to Tang Bainian at his workplace.
This photographer ostensibly works for Song Hengjue, but in reality, he's a traitor planted by Tang Bainian right next to Song Hengjue!
Thinking of this, Yang Qingheng took a deep breath, her eyes filled with a hint of annoyance.
Tang Bainian is incredibly cunning; he's played Song Hengjue so well that Song Hengjue is so stubborn he doesn't even realize he's been outsmarted.
It's also her fault for being emotional at the time; otherwise, she would have asked a few more questions and wouldn't have wronged Song Hengjue.
Yang Qingheng sighed. She had been by Tang Bainian's side for too long and had never stepped out of her role as a friend to truly observe him. She hadn't even realized that he was no longer the Tang Bainian from Xishan Town five years ago.
How could someone who rises steadily to the position of department head be a simple person? It would be strange if they weren't devoured until not even bones remained.
Coupled with the disgust Song Hengjue showed when talking about Tang Bainian in front of her, and his recent constant nagging in her ear about wanting a formal title, she subconsciously felt that it was normal for him to act on Tang Bainian in the heat of the moment.
Everything happened so logically that it left no room for doubt.
"The detective..." Sun Rong glanced worriedly at Yang Qingheng through the rearview mirror, and only continued speaking after finding that Yang Qingheng's expression wasn't too bad.
Yang Qingheng pursed her lips: "No need to investigate."
If the investigation continues, Tang Bainian will find out.
She dared not think about Tang Bainian's motives for doing such a thing. After all, they had been friends for many years and had supported each other to get to where they were today. There was more to it than nothing. Yang Qingheng did not want things to escalate to the point of tearing each other apart, which was why she insisted on a quick divorce.
Sun Rong felt a chill in her heart. She had always thought Tang Bainian was an easy person to talk to, but she never expected that he was so meticulous that he had even bribed the detectives that Yang Qingheng often used.
If Yang Qingheng hadn't noticed something was wrong and consulted other detectives, they would still be in the dark.
"What should we do with the evidence? Should we hand it over to the police?" Sun Rong couldn't help but ask.
Song Hengjue is innocent after all. If he hands it over, it will damage his relationship with Tang Bainian. If he doesn't hand it over, Song Hengjue is truly wronged.
"Tang Bainian knows what he's doing." Yang Qingheng shook her head. Tang Bainian is a smart man; he won't touch Song Hengjue.
Sun Rong remained silent, glanced at Yang Qingheng, and focused on driving.
Yang Qingheng closed her eyes in frustration, her mind filled with Song Hengjue's sad and disappointed expression that day, and a sense of guilt belatedly welled up inside her.
But thinking about Song Hengjue's blind date with someone in the coffee shop just now, he felt a surge of inexplicable anger.
The fluctuating emotions were driving her almost crazy.
That damned little brat, so despicable and pathetic.
Night falls.
The car slowly came to a stop outside Song Hengjue's house.
Miss Xu rested her finger on her chin, raising a delicate eyebrow: "Aren't you going to invite me up for a chat?"
"I don't have the habit of bringing women home." Song Hengjue's expression was cold, and he didn't even bother with a perfunctory reply.
After saying that, he walked into the courtyard.
Miss Xu suddenly popped her head out, as if remembering something: "Hey! Song Hengjue!"
"What?" Song Hengjue turned around indifferently.
Miss Xu chuckled: "Happy birthday."
"Thank you." Upon hearing this, Song Hengjue seemed uninterested, waved his hand, and pushed open the door.
Miss Xu watched his retreating figure, then pouted and said, "No romance. Driver, drive home."
Song Hengjue didn't turn on the lights, and the living room was pitch black. If it weren't for the faint breathing sounds coming from the sofa, you would hardly notice that there was anyone there.
Darkness can conceal all expressions, but the emotions within begin to spread and swell.
The words "Happy Birthday" still seemed to echo in his ears. Song Hengjue stared blankly at the equally dark ceiling, then suddenly gave a self-deprecating laugh, which was inexplicably tinged with disappointment.
We promised to celebrate his birthday, but in the end, he's all alone.
Go with her, go with her Tang Bainian!
With a loud thud, the teacup in front of him crashed to the ground. Song Hengjue collapsed onto the sofa in despair, looking utterly dejected.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
He sat up abruptly, not even bothering to put on his shoes, and rushed to open the door, his eyes revealing a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
However, the unfamiliar face in front of him felt like a bucket of cold water being poured over his head.
"Hello, sir, these are the flowers Ms. Yang ordered from our store two weeks ago." The deliveryman looked at Song Hengjue's suddenly cold expression and felt uneasy.
"I don't want it anymore, just throw it away." Song Hengjue pursed his lips.
The flower delivery guy hesitated for a moment: "Why don't you think about it some more?"
He couldn't believe that anyone could resist the temptation of money when a bouquet of flowers cost several hundred yuan.
Before him stood a large bouquet of flowers. In the past, Song Hengjue would have been overjoyed to receive such a sight, but now he could only see overwhelming mockery in the bouquet.
It only filled his mind with Yang Qingheng's face, like it was squeezing his heart, making it hard to breathe and causing him to convulse in pain.
Song Hengjue's annoyance reached its peak in an instant: "Are you deaf? There's a trash can right outside the door. Go over there and throw it away. Do I have to teach you how to do this?"
The flower delivery guy was startled.
A woman's voice came from behind: "Why not? Do you hate flowers or do you hate me?"
The darkness made it impossible to clearly see the woman's features, making everything seem even more unreal.
Song Hengjue stood frozen in place, more convinced than reality that it was all just a hallucination.
He stood there, stunned, about to close the door.
He remembered that he hadn't taken his medicine today; he hadn't followed the doctor's instructions to take it properly, and his condition had worsened again.
Seeing the man stiffly trying to close the door like a puppet, Yang Qingheng nodded apologetically to the flower delivery guy, stuffed the tip into his palm, and with lightning speed, grabbed the flowers and pushed against the door at the last second before it closed.
However, it seemed that Song Hengjue was determined to challenge her tonight. He slammed the door shut with great force, and Yang Qingheng couldn't push it open no matter how hard she tried. With a determined heart, she reached out her hand.
The door did not close properly, and a cry of pain followed.
Song Hengjue was startled and reflexively withdrew his hand, staring helplessly at her hand.
Ignoring the pain in the back of her hand, Yang Qingheng frantically threw herself into his arms, tightly hugging his waist until her soft flesh ached, but she refused to let go.
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