Xu Zhuohua's gaze fell on the newspaper, her brows furrowed slightly. She reached out and pulled out the top copy, looking up at Chen Hede with a hint of doubt in her eyes, as if she were asking a question silently.
“Since you can’t speak, I won’t nag.” Chen Hede’s voice was a little hoarse. He picked up the stack of newspapers and carefully divided them into several piles. “After the fire at Cheng’s mansion, Xinhai City is no longer what it used to be. These are the newspapers from the past seven days; I’ve brought them all for you.”
He pointed to the several stacks that had been sorted out, explaining each one clearly: "This stack is all about Cheng Muyun. This part is about Chairman Luo's movements, this stack is about the Xu family, and the recent actions of the Dongzhou Army... This last stack is about Hu Moli."
When he mentioned the name "Hu Moli," he paused, his gaze sweeping over Xu Zhuohua's pale face. Seeing that she didn't react much, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and looked away.
Xu Zhuohua's fingertips paused for a moment on several stacks of newspapers before finally landing on the one labeled "Cheng Muyun".
She slowly pulled out the top sheet, her fingertips touching the cool paper. She tightened her grip slightly, then slowly unfolded it.
The report accused Cheng Muyun of murder and arson, condemning him for burning down the Luo Mansion, killing his father-in-law, and establishing the independent Dongzhou Army, directly opposing the government.
The words were harsh, reducing Cheng Muyun to the lowest level and describing him as a murderous maniac.
Xu Zhuohua's fingers trembled, tears welled up in her eyes, and she could barely breathe.
Cheng Muyun's life trajectory is exactly the same as that in history.
His wife died, and he became a serial killer.
Xu Zhuohua flipped through each newspaper one by one.
Cheng Muyun burned the Luo Mansion to the ground, avenging "Xu Zhuohua," and then gave the Chamber of Commerce's account books to the Xu family. The Dongzhou Army stormed into the Chamber of Commerce and elected Xu Shinong as the new president.
The Xu family was at the height of their power for a time.
Cheng Muyun also shut down all the newspapers that slandered Xu Zhuohua. No matter how many innocent people died, he killed everyone who had slandered Xu Zhuohua.
Blood had been flowing in Xinhai City for many days, and everyone was filled with fear and unease. They began to miss the days when Xu Zhuohua was still alive, at least someone could bring Cheng Muyun back to his senses.
But now Xu Zhuohua is "dead," and Cheng Muyun is the demon king who has broken the seal.
Xu Zhuohua's throat suddenly felt like it had been branded with a hot iron; a sharp pain shot down her esophagus, and a metallic sweetness surged up her throat.
She had tried to change things, but in the end, it all seemed to be in vain.
Not only did it fail to protect anyone, it also caused innocent people to lose their lives for no reason.
The thought that Hu Moli would die in that fire in her place had barely crossed my mind when the burning pain in my throat made it hard to breathe.
Her hands trembled as she reached for the stack of newspapers labeled "Hu Moli." Just as her fingertips were about to touch the pages, Chen Hede suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist.
His strength wasn't heavy, but it carried an unyielding stubbornness that was impossible to break free from.
Xu Zhuohua looked up at him and saw that his handsome eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were filled with deep reluctance.
Only then did she notice that his chin was covered in a thick layer of stubble, and he looked exhausted from overwork. His expression was also particularly strained, as if he was hiding a huge, unspeakable secret.
She looked at him with a puzzled expression, her eyes filled with a silent question.
This gaze, when it fell upon Chen Hede, intensified his inner struggle, and his palms, which were gripping her wrist, became damp with sweat.
Xu Zhuohua had never seen him like this before, and her doubts deepened.
She suddenly pulled her hand away and quickly flipped open the stack of newspapers.
The section about Hu Moli is small, with a black and white photo of her singing in the upper right corner.
In the photo, Hu Moli's eyes are captivating, her signature fox-like eyes are naturally alluring, and when she smiles, there are two shallow dimples at the corners of her mouth, making her seem so vivid that she might step out of the paper at any moment.
But the caption next to the photo was like a blunt knife, tearing this vividness apart—"Singer Hu Moli died from an opium overdose."
The report stated that Hu Moli had long been addicted to opium. After being injured in the fire, she became increasingly addicted due to the unbearable pain and eventually died in the hospital from an overdose.
Her funeral arrangements were handled by her junior apprentice, Mei Heming, and were extremely hasty.
Xu Zhuohua's fingers gripped the edge of the newspaper so tightly that her knuckles turned white, and the pages were crumpled into deep creases.
History eventually veered back to its original course, filling all the illogical gaps in such an absurd way.
She knew better than anyone that Hu Moli hated opium the most; she would never even touch it, let alone smoke it.
But the black print on the newspaper is glaringly dark; these false words will eventually become the "truth" that future generations will read.
A crushing weight suddenly slammed into my chest, and tears rolled down my cheeks without warning, splashing onto the newspaper and leaving a small, dark stain, like blood dripping into my heart, hot and heavy.
Seeing her like this, Chen Hede's heart clenched, and he hurriedly explained, "Jasmine is gone, I had no choice but to resort to this... If others investigate and find out she died in your place, then..."
Before he could finish speaking, Xu Zhuohua slowly raised her bloodshot eyes and looked at him with disbelief mixed with a hint of barely perceptible fear, as if she had seen something extremely unfamiliar.
"Why?" Her voice was hoarse, as if it had been sanded, and every word seemed to be dripping with blood.
No sooner had he finished speaking than the metallic taste in his throat became unbearable, and a mouthful of blood gushed from the corner of his mouth.
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