Just as I was wondering whether I should talk to her, I saw her suddenly smile inwards, a genuinely sweet smile, unlike her previous fake one.
"Do you think this young widow has someone she likes?"
"It shouldn't be, right?"
"I think so. Look, so many people like this young widow."
"She is indeed beautiful."
The two people next to me were whispering to each other.
Yan Zhen frowned.
For some reason, hearing the word "widow" made him feel somewhat displeased.
"Qingfeng, come here and collect the money."
"good."
A servant walked toward the counter.
Ning Zhaozhao, however, walked to the back.
Yan Zhen's gaze remained fixed on her.
She saw a man's hand take hers.
"elder brother?"
"You got into a fight again."
"Yes, this time I controlled it much better. Not a single table was broken."
Ning Zhaozhao took Ning Hongze's arm.
"That's amazing."
"It's all thanks to my brother's excellent teaching."
Ning Zhaozhao rested her head on Ning Hongze's shoulder, and the two walked back affectionately, completely unaware that someone was quietly following behind them.
Yan Zhen stared wide-eyed in disbelief.
What's this?
Ning Hongze?
Why would he see Ning Hongze?
A chill ran through his chest, making him feel a chill run down his spine.
Ning Hong was clearly dead; he had killed her with his own hands.
He was present at his burial.
I watched him being buried with my own eyes.
I watched with my own eyes as the mud covered the coffin.
But—he raised his head, and then who was this person?
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