The fire starter illuminated a small area of Youzhi Garden.
The more they looked, the weirder it seemed.
According to Yang Xin, Youzhi Garden was where Xie Ping's late husband, Xie Youzhi, once lived.
Since Xie Youzhi passed away, no one has lived here, and it can even be said to be deserted.
But the place that should have been deserted is now very clean, as if someone cleans it every day.
There are definitely people coming in and out here every day. Looking at the flowers and plants, they clearly show signs of being carefully cared for.
The two of them groped their way from room to room, becoming more and more certain of their guess.
"This should be the bedroom." That is Xie Youzhi's dormitory.
Zhao Chuchu gently pushed the door open. The strong coldness and the bright light made her heart rise in an instant.
I hope you won’t find out from the side of your face.
Zhao Chuchu was shocked, but fortunately, there was no one there.
The light was an oil lamp, and it seemed to be burning all the time.
"It's ice." The coldness was brought by the ice that almost covered half of the bedroom.
No wonder I felt the coldness as soon as I entered Youzhi Garden. It turned out that it was all emitted by the ice.
But why ice?
Zhao Chuchu and Song Wanxian acted separately and searched the bedroom.
Their intuition told them that the secret of Youzhiyuan might be in this bedroom.
At this time, Zhao Chuchu had already come to the desk and saw the portraits.
My eyes fell on the top one, which showed a young man with a delicate and gentle face.
His appearance was not stunning, but his temperament and the look in his beautiful eyes were so pitiful that people could not help but feel pity for him.
Zhao Chuchu flipped through the other dozen or so photos.
The portrait inside was basically the same as the one she saw at the banquet, depicting Xie Ping's dozen girls and young servant.
Only three portraits remained, and she had never seen the real person.
Among them, the frail boy was the most delicately drawn.
Xie Ping clearly had sixteen young servants, yet there were seventeen portraits here. So many extra portraits...
Zhao Chuchu's eyes fell on the young man. This should be Xie Ping's deceased husband, the owner of Youzhi Garden, Xie Youzhi.
"Sister Chu, you, come over here quickly."
At this time, Zhao Chuchu heard Song Wanxian's voice, which was filled with a hint of fear and trembling. It was obvious that she had seen something scary.
Zhao Chuchu hurried over.
"Aunt Song, what's wrong?" Zhao Chuchu asked.
What Song Wanxian's eyes were looking at was the bed in the bedroom.
Zhao Chuchu looked over, and the next second, her pupils suddenly constricted.
There was only one person lying on the bed.
Zhao Chuchu took a closer look and was even more shocked to find that it was actually a dead person.
Zhao Chuchu was not afraid of the dead. After all, she had seen many ugly and disgusting zombies in the apocalypse.
What shocked Zhao Chuchu was the identity of the dead man.
Looking at his appearance, he was exactly one of the seventeen portraits, the frail, weak young man.
It was also Zhao Chuchu's guess, Xie Ping's husband, Xie Youzhi.
Yang Xin said that Xie Youzhi was a sick beauty and he died of a serious illness.
But, a person who had been dead for several years was lying here.
People who have died for several years have not been buried and have not decayed.
He had his hands on his abdomen and was wearing a blue shirt, as if he was asleep, but Zhao Chuchu had checked and found that he was indeed not breathing.
Zhao Chuchu was a little frightened.
She checked again and finally found the reason.
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