Chapter 76 Chapter 76 Ex-boyfriend's death
Leaden clouds hung heavy over the cemetery, echoing the tightly packed black umbrellas below. The wind, carrying a damp, cold, rotting smell, blew through the withered, decaying branches, emitting a fragmented, heavy whimper, like the fragmented sobs of someone lowering their head.
The black coat whirred in the wind, and footsteps stepped on the raindrops as they walked across the frosted stone road. Silence passed by death, and only the raindrops broke the dead leaves, and the crisp cracking sound at that moment was particularly harsh in the cemetery.
He Songfeng lowered his head, his eyes falling on the name carved on the tombstone. The sound of his crying was as heavy as if it had been soaked in water. Occasionally, a few sudden gasps leaked out from the gaps in the handkerchief and drifted around the cold tombstone.
People in black stood solemnly with their heads bowed. A bunch of white chrysanthemums leaned against the tombstone, broken into broken branches and leaves by the wind. The petals were blown off and buried in the pit along with the shoveled soil and the person, leaving no trace, just like the dead person.
"Mr. He, your health is important. Don't be overly sad."
The priest comforted the crying man.
The man wore a pure black lace hat with two crow feathers pinned on the left side of the hat. A bunch of soft black gauze hung down from the roots of the crow feathers, and the tail of the black gauze was dotted with misty blue patterns for decoration.
In contrast to his light, flowing hair accessory, he was dressed quite heavily. A heavy, dark black windbreaker that reached down to his calves. Beneath the coat was a matte black shirt that buttoned all the way to his Adam's apple. The only shiny detail on his body was the gold buttons at his collar.
"You are right."
He Songfeng put away his handkerchief dejectedly, and with a haggard face, he took out a long cigarette from the cigarette box. He just held it between two fingers, and before he could put it to his lips, the men standing beside He Songfeng had already extended their caring flames to the poor widow.
Flames bright enough to burn a person clean gathered from all directions and pushed towards him. The flames flickered, but could not illuminate He Songfeng's dark pupils. His pale cheeks were even more colorless. His lips, which were white to the point of being bluish, trembled as he bit the cigarette butt. After looking around confusedly at the men who were staring at him hungrily, he chose the lighter closest to him, lit it, took a shallow puff, and exhaled a soft, warm white mist, which was like a gauze mist that touched the flames that were ready to move.
The man chosen by He Songfeng put the lighter into his pocket, like a child chosen by God, with his head held high and his chest puffed out, full of pride.
The others were not discouraged either. They uninvitedly placed their palms on the lonely widow's shoulders, gently pressing and kneading them, breathing ambiguously: "Mr. Lambert is gone. If you encounter any difficulties in the future, you can come to us."
“Poor Angel.”
There was an exclamation from the crowd.
He Songfeng did not respond. He just stood there, trying his best to appear helpless, incompetent and desperate.
Just a few steps out of the cemetery, reporters swarmed over and the bodyguards were unable to stop their enthusiasm.
"Angel! Please address the details and mysteries surrounding your husband's death! Why did you conceal the fact that you were at the scene the night of his death? Were you worried that the truth about your incitement to murder would be exposed, so you chose to conceal it and flee immediately?"
"Angel! You and the other deceased in this case were lovers. Can this be understood as you and your lover Samuel planning a murder against your husband?"
"Angel! You profited from a $20 billion inheritance, as well as half of the Lambert family's shares and trusts. Wouldn't you be afraid of receiving this money? Wouldn't you feel guilty and panic? You truly are the most cold-blooded and brutal Black Widow in history."
He Songfeng got in the car, raised his hand to signal the driver to slow down, turned around and rolled down the window. Facing the cameras and microphones that were pointed at him like gun barrels, he slowly straightened his outfit and innocently complained, "I'm not Angel. I have my own name. My name is He Songfeng."
"An... He Songfeng! So why did you try to evade the main point and answer irrelevant questions? Does this prove that the questions we just raised are true and your true thoughts?"
The reporter's sharp questions almost sentenced He Songfeng to death on behalf of the judge.
He Songfeng stared at the camera expressionlessly. His eyes were fixed on the center of the camera, which was as dark as the greedy mouth of a beast. He looked at someone seriously and solemnly.
The flash exploded unexpectedly.
A faint smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, decent and polite.
The next second, He Songfeng closed the car window, took off the windshield, and drove away.
Three months later.
It was an ordinary morning in Jialin City, late spring and early summer.
He Songfeng took the warm hot cocoa, took the newspaper brought by his assistant, took a sip of the hot cocoa and unfolded the newspaper.
The next second, with a "puff", He Songfeng quickly took out a tissue and wiped the corner of his mouth.
"The most beautiful Black Widow in the history of the United States and even the world, who slaughtered her husband and lover with impunity."
He Songfeng read out each word, causing other people working in the office to turn around and look over.
Located on the top floor of the tallest office building in the heart of Jialin City, the creative studio was founded by He Songfeng. Thanks to He Songfeng's reputation and ability, the studio has already partnered with many world-class companies within three months of its establishment.
This company was completely losing money, not only making no profit but also losing money. He Songfeng just wanted to experience the feeling of standing on a high-rise building, overlooking the city, and being flattered by everyone as a big boss.
This is all thanks to He Songfeng's late husband. He was so rich that He Songfeng had enough money to spend recklessly in her lifetime. Even if He Songfeng invested the money and put it all in one go, there would still be a huge family trust to provide a guarantee for the young widow.
This money has become a huge rolling snowball, and more is always accumulated than melted.
He Songfeng has a car, a house, and a career in Jialin City. She gets promoted, gets rich, and her husband dies.
"Xiao Lin, what are you showing Mr. He?"
"It's all over the front page of entertainment newspapers and trending on Weibo. Everyone is talking about Mr. He's face."
Xiao Lin is He Songfeng's assistant and a college student who graduated recently.
He Songfeng wiped the milk stains from the corners of his mouth, and couldn't help but take another look at the newspaper headlines. He pursed his lips and smiled quietly. His eyes had turned into crescents, and the two black moles on his eyelids were visible, which were more eye-catching than the cinnabar between his eyebrows.
Right here, He Songfeng's cell phone on the table rang.
He Songfeng glanced at the sender on the screen, his smile grew even brighter, and he almost burst into laughter from his throat without concealing it.
He picked up his phone and walked towards his office, not forgetting to lock the door.
The screen was unlocked, and a male reproductive organ suddenly appeared on the message interface, and the sender's note was - Zhao Jieyi.
He Songfeng's first love and the creator of all He Songfeng's misfortunes.
He tricked He Songfeng into taking pornographic videos and sold them online, completely ruining He Songfeng and turning him into a male prostitute in everyone's eyes.
If He Songfeng had not met Zhao Jieyi and had not encountered this incident, he would have been like all ordinary people, going to school, working, getting married, having children, and living an ordinary life.
But poor He Songfeng has lost the qualification for an "ordinary life".
Not satisfied with just one message, a second one arrived soon. It was a short video. Holding the dirty object in one hand, the man let out a disgusting gasp as he pointed at the trembling, naked 18-year-old He Songfeng in the sex video playing on the screen, shouting He Songfeng's name.
He Songfeng took the initiative to contact Zhao Jieyi a month ago.
Slide the chat history forward to the very beginning——
"How much does it cost to get you out of Jialin City?"
"Are you still afraid that I'll send the video out? Tsk tsk tsk, such a coward."
The other party opened his mouth loudly: "Transfer 20,000 to me."
In less than a second, He Songfeng transferred 20,000 yuan to the other party.
"Leave Jialin City, now, immediately, right now!"
"It's too little. Give me another 100,000."
"Are you lying?"
"Don't blame me, blame yourself for being so stupid. You still want to do this and dare to negotiate with me. I still have your video saved. If you don't want me to post it online, share it quickly."
He Songfeng transferred 100,000 yuan to him.
"I thought I'd become a decent person after going abroad, but I'm actually just a slutty bitch who needs to be fucked. How much money did your dead husband leave you? Give it all to me."
He Songfeng's cowardice penetrated into Zhao Jieyi's heart, and he began to become more and more greedy. From 20,000 to 100,000 and then to 500,000, in just one month, he had taken 3 million from He Songfeng.
"Bitch."
"Ow. Fuck."
"Cousin."
Zhao Jieyi's humiliation continued from the first one to the most recent one, which was either blackmail or insult.
"Please don't do this."
"Please, don't do this to me, don't talk about me like this."
The historical messages are all about He Songfeng’s pleas and transfers.
The phone in He Songfeng's hands exploded. After sending photos and videos, the other party was dissatisfied with He Songfeng's silence and called him directly.
"Where are you?" Zhao Jieyi's voice came out of the receiver rudely, as if scolding He Songfeng for being disobedient.
He Songfeng answered softly and meekly, "In the company." There was a tearful tone in his voice, as if he would sob and beg the other party to let him go in the next second.
"Where's the address?" Even though it was a phone call, Zhao Jie could tell from the tone that he was rolling his eyes impatiently. "Tell me the address. How do I know where your company is?"
"What do you want to do? No..." He Songfeng's voice became smaller and smaller, and more and more desperate.
Zhao Jie smiled, and He Songfeng's cowardice penetrated into his heart.
He thought He Songfeng was still the eighteen-year-old He Songfeng, so he was also the eighteen-year-old Zhao Jieyi.
Bad, selfish, mean and vicious.
"I'm already so hard, it must be you who's fucking me. You, I haven't touched your penis in years, you must be horny."
The obscene voice was like a wet, sticky, sour and smelly thick tongue, which came out from the receiver of the mobile phone, stuck to He Songfeng's body and licked him several times, making He Songfeng feel uncomfortable all over.
"You promised me that you would take the money and leave Jialin City."
He Songfeng took out a cigarette box, put his fingertips on the edge of the box and turned it. While pretending to be his eighteen-year-old self in a fearful tone, he stared at the cigarette box in his hand thoughtfully, thinking about the man's ending.
"I also said I would delete your obscene video. Did I delete it? Hahahaha - if you don't want to be treated as a whore anymore, just obey me."
Zhao Jie was amused by He Songfeng's foolish innocence and laughed for a long time before stopping. Then his tone and expression became perverted to the point of being ferocious and he sharply ordered:
"Where is it? Give me the address!"
Under Zhao Jie's impatient urging, He Songfeng slowly took out a cigarette, kissed it to his lips, and smiled gently under the cover of the cigarette butt.
"Okay, I'll tell you."
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