Chapter 34: In Youth, One Does Not Know the Charms of a Young Wife

The two of them gazed at each other for a long time beneath the dim lights, the air thick with an indescribable tension. It was Chen Yu who broke the silence first, his trademark roguish smile curling at the corners of his lips as he walked slowly to Liu Hong’s side and sat down beside her.

Liu Hong’s body stiffened ever so slightly.

Yet she did not shy away; her cheeks instantly bloomed with a captivating blush.

Chen Yu, still wearing that playful smile, looked at her quietly, saying nothing.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment.

After a while, Liu Hong finally summoned her courage and parted her lips, “Do you… really believe Xiangdong’s death was an accident?”

“That question, perhaps, should be posed to you first, Sister Hong,” Chen Yu replied. “In your heart, what do you hope it was?”

“Me?” Liu Hong echoed, confusion flickering in her eyes, as if caught off guard.

“Or rather, if the case is ultimately closed as ‘an accident,’ would you feel unsettled, unwilling to accept it? Is it only by finding a culprit and seeing them punished that you would truly be at peace?”

“I… I don’t know…” Liu Hong gazed at Chen Yu in bewilderment. “But my intuition tells me Xiangdong’s death… was definitely not an accident!”

Chen Yu nodded slightly.

He had already struck a deal with Ford—at tomorrow’s case conference, he would keep silent, letting Ford ‘unravel’ the truth.

But now, seeing the stubborn helplessness in Liu Hong’s eyes, and her delicate, pitiable demeanor, the resolve he thought unshakable began to waver.

His true purpose in coming was for the note Liu Hong held, the one left by Luo Xiangdong before his death.

He needed to use his ‘Retrospect’ skill to see what past scenes lingered on that note.

“Sister Hong, may I see that note?” Chen Yu’s voice softened. “Also, I’d like to take another look at Mr. Luo’s room upstairs. Perhaps… there’s more to discover.”

“All right!”

The light rekindled in Liu Hong’s once-dim eyes at hearing Chen Yu’s willingness to continue searching for clues.

This young man, who had once played her husband, was her only hope now—he hadn’t given up!

Liu Hong rose gracefully and walked into the inner room.

Moments later, she returned with a yellowed slip of paper, handing it to Chen Yu with solemn care.

Chen Yu took the note without another word and headed straight upstairs.

Luo Xiangdong’s old bedroom remained crisp and spotless.

Clearly, Liu Hong had tended to everything with meticulous care.

Chen Yu walked to the desk and sat down, gently laying the note flat upon its surface.

“Retrospect!”

He whispered the command in his heart.

Instantly, a familiar dizziness swept over him, the scene before his eyes twisting, flowing backward.

The handwriting on the note became clear in the retrospective vision.

Yet the crucial word, blurred by tears, remained hazy, impossible to decipher.

Still, given the clues, Chen Yu could almost conclude that the word was likely “wind.”

In the vision, a somewhat thin man held a pen, writing upon the note.

Chen Yu saw his face.

It was Luo Xiangdong.

At that moment, Luo Xiangdong’s eyes were moist, his face etched with longing and deep affection.

The vision was perfectly plausible!

Yet in the next instant, something changed abruptly.

The expression on Luo Xiangdong’s face froze without warning, then began to distort.

That longing and affection receded like a tide.

In their place came a chilling fierceness, a pain that cut to the bone, and nearly venomous resentment.

“Hah… haha…”

A cold, raspy laugh pressed from deep within his throat, echoing from the tear-stained face.

The laughter was piercing and uncanny, sending a chill through Chen Yu as he perceived it via the system.

“Whoosh!”

The vision abruptly ended.

Chen Yu snapped back to reality, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

What was happening?

Why would such a terrifying expression appear at the moment of farewell?

Was this… was this rational?

He even wondered if the system had malfunctioned at a crucial moment.

So far, he had used ‘Retrospect’ to glimpse many fragments from Luo Xiangdong’s life.

But these scenes were disjointed, impossible to weave into a coherent narrative.

Just how many secrets remained hidden, out of reach?

How could he piece together these fragments into a perfect whole?

Chen Yu sat at the desk for a long time, thoughts churning, until at last he could only smile wryly, carrying his doubts as he slowly made his way downstairs.

By then, the clock had already struck past one in the morning.

In the living room below, Liu Hong lay curled up on the sofa, deeply asleep.

Her delicate brows were furrowed, as if even in dreams she bore a measure of grievance and unwillingness. The sight stirred a strange ache in Chen Yu’s heart.

He tiptoed to the bedroom on the first floor, retrieved a lightweight summer blanket from the wardrobe, intending to cover her.

Yet just as his hand was about to touch Liu Hong’s shoulder—

A soft, slender hand suddenly seized his wrist.

“Don’t… don’t leave me…”

The muffled, nasal words, tinged with the haze of sleep, slipped from Liu Hong’s lips.

Her voice was like a spark, instantly reigniting the fire within him that had nearly died out.

That fire flared brightly once more!

Chen Yu turned to look at the woman on the sofa, his gaze burning.

He drew a deep breath, then suddenly bent over, sweeping Liu Hong up into his arms.

“Mm…”

Liu Hong let out a low gasp, waking abruptly from her sleep.

Her bleary eyes opened, and as she recognized Chen Yu, her surprise melted into shy, rapid breaths. Her cheeks flushed so deeply they seemed ready to burst.

With the warmth and softness nestled in his arms, Chen Yu did not hesitate, carrying her straight into the bedroom.

He gently placed Liu Hong upon the soft bed, then leaned in, enveloping her beneath his shadow.

Liu Hong’s long lashes trembled; she closed her eyes as if resigned, ready to yield herself.

She thought she knew what would follow—but it did not come as expected.

Chen Yu hovered over her, his breathing rough and urgent.

Yet he made no further move, only watching her quietly, waiting for her to open her eyes.

After an unknown interval, Liu Hong finally opened her eyes.

Seeing Chen Yu’s focused gaze, a hint of surprise crossed her lovely face.

Chen Yu’s voice was unusually clear:

“Sister Hong, look closely—I am Chen Yu… not Luo Xiangdong!”

His eyes were deep as the sea, and he asked, word by word:

“Like this… would you still be willing?”

Liu Hong trembled imperceptibly at his words.

Her gaze was complex—confused, shy, struggling—but in the end, resolved.

She closed her eyes again, cheeks as red as ripe apples.

Then, softly, she nodded.

An hour later…

Chen Yu gazed at Liu Hong beside him, her sleep peaceful, her face content, his heart awash with emotion.

When young, one fails to appreciate the allure of mature women, mistaking the charm of girls for treasure!

Then again, Liu Hong’s age was no longer that of a young wife.

Yet her exquisite figure, her silken skin—time’s cruel blade seemed to spare her, leaving barely a trace.

With this thought, the afterglow of passion faded, clarity returning to his mind.

He rose gently and began to dress.

The matter here was settled; it was time to go—there was a ‘white moonlight’ waiting for him at the hotel.

Thinking of Li Qing’s pure, fiery presence quickened his hands as he tidied himself.

Just as he was about to slip away, his eyes caught a glimpse of Liu Hong’s slender leg draped outside the blanket.

He walked softly back to the bedside, intending to cover her.

But as he lifted the corner of the blanket to tuck her in, his gaze suddenly froze!

On the snow-white sheet, a glaring patch of crimson bloomed like a plum blossom in winter, burning into Chen Yu’s eyes!

That red, in the dim light, was so abrupt, so breathtaking!

A thunderclap sounded in Chen Yu’s mind—he was struck as if by lightning!

He stood rooted to the spot, pupils contracting sharply!

This… this was…?!