"Father..." A strange name rolled out from Ye Qingliu's cracked lips, and he pulled off Hua Jinyue's lace headband.
Hua Jinyue staggered and supported her hot body, the pearl at the end of her hairband rolled to Ye Chenxi's feet - it was the nineteenth pearl scattered on Hua Yueyao's wedding veil, which he casually threw into the deep of the safe three years ago.
Hua Jinyue held her head high stubbornly: "Brother's injuries... were all caused by her..."
Ye Chenxi's pupils suddenly contracted.
His memory flashed back to the day when the business marriage agreement was signed——his original wife Hua Yueyao was sitting under the crystal chandelier, quietly playing the piano.
There had never been a deep affection between them, but late one night, he ran into her curled up in the nursery, humming a lullaby. The moonlight shone over the tiger-head shoes she had sewn for the twins, the stitches as fine as stars.
"If it's twins, you'll get 30% of Ye's shares."
He had promised this, yet at her funeral he stuffed his will into the shredder. The tracker, visible from Hua Jinyue's skirt, was flashing a blue light—it was the pearl necklace pendant his late wife had clutched tightly before her death. He had originally thought it was just an outdated piece of jewelry.
Ye Chenxi's fingertips touched Ye Qingliu's hot forehead, and a sticky cold sweat wet the cuffs of his suit.
This action made Yi An's body stiffen—when the delivery room was filled with the heaviest smell of blood, his late wife had stroked the twins' hair in the same way, with drops of blood dripping from the bed sheets to the tips of his polished leather shoes.
"Last Halloween..." Hua Jinyue suddenly lifted up her skirt, revealing a centipede-shaped burn on her calf. "She said it would bring bad luck if I dressed up as a witch..." Ye Chenxi's thumb unconsciously scratched the mark on the inside of the wedding ring.
He recalled that rainy night when Yi An was wearing the same dark green nightgown as his late wife, with Dior J'adore perfume sprayed on her collarbone, and he held her wrist and said, "Don't be lenient when disciplining your children."
Yi An's high heels suddenly snapped. She watched Ye Chenxi pick up Ye Qingliu, the image of the man's suit front stained with pus and blood overlapping with her memory—twenty years ago, he had rushed out of the conference room with his deceased wife, who had miscarried, in his arms, letting her white dress rip against the gilded doorknob.
"Why do you think I married you?" Ye Chenxi suddenly kicked over the gilded candlestick, and the flame spread along with the alcohol. "These eyes..." He pinched Yi An's chin, "Even if they look like hers, they can't reflect the heart of a mother at all!"
Hua Jinyue smashed her pearl necklace against the stained glass window, and the statue shattered into a wailing baby. Ye Qingliu twitched in his father's arms, his charred cuffs revealing the words: "Brother, forever protect little Jinyue," engraved on the cuff. He had personally taught his sister how to carve it for her birthday the previous year.
Embedded in those crooked scratches were shards of glass that had splashed when Yi An smashed the perfume bottle.
"Butler Li, let her reflect on herself."
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