Chapter Sixty-Two: The Darkness Before Dawn (Part 9)

As he continued filming, He Zheyu wrapped his arms around Mo Qinghan, who was already fast asleep, closed his exhausted eyelids, and gradually drifted into slumber.

At dawn, Mo Qinghan heard the sound of someone handling bowls and basins in the kitchen. Seeing that she was alone in bed, she got up, slipped on her slippers, and walked lightly toward the kitchen.

There, she saw a woman in her fifties, her hair neatly tied at the back of her head, dressed in a blue outfit, stirring porridge in a clay pot.

Sensing someone standing behind her, the woman turned and smiled at Mo Qinghan, who was standing at the kitchen door. “The porridge will be ready soon. Please have a seat and wait a little while,” she said.

“How should I address you?” Mo Qinghan asked calmly.

“You can call me Aunt Lin,” the woman replied.

“Aunt Lin, I don’t have many requirements. Just make me something simple,” Mo Qinghan said before leaving.

After breakfast, Mo Qinghan didn’t return to the bedroom. She noticed a new rosewood wicker chair on the balcony, walked over, lay down, and played soothing music on her phone. Aunt Lin brought her a blanket from the bedroom and covered her. With her eyes closed, the warm sunshine bathed her, her eyeballs moving irregularly beneath her lids, making it clear she wasn’t asleep.

He Family

In the study, two people glared fiercely at each other. He Xuanji forcefully tossed the court summons sent to Zhao Siyu onto the desk, his voice brimming with anger. “Just two million—do you need to make such a fuss and trouble Siyu?”

Sitting calmly across the desk, He Zheyu seemed unfazed by He Xuanji’s rage. He picked up a cigar from the desk, lit it, pressed it to his seemingly indifferent lips, inhaled deeply, and spoke slowly, “A delicate woman with no strength to even truss a chicken, yet both the He and Zhao families go to such lengths to retaliate. Compared to that, I’m rather magnanimous.” Though his expression remained unchanged, his gaze toward He Xuanji grew colder.

He Xuanji, unsettled by He Zheyu’s icy stare, spoke with a hint of guilt, “I just asked the Zhao family to quietly send the girl away. I never expected things would…”

After a moment of silence, He Zheyu’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “Indeed, you quietly sent away two people: one left a trace in this world, but the other was never given the chance to come into it.” As he finished, a slight moisture appeared in He Zheyu’s eyes. He continued, “If I harm your illegitimate child, are you pained for him, or for that filthy, wicked woman whose hands are stained with blood?”

He Xuanji knew He Zheyu always harbored hostility toward Zhao Xuer, stemming from a misunderstanding. He had long hoped to reconcile, so Zhao Siyu’s career in the He Group could flourish. Yet, the incident with Mo Qinghan had deepened He Zheyu’s resentment toward the Zhao family, himself, and Zhao Xuer.

His brows furrowed even deeper, and after a long sigh, he said, “I didn’t know she was carrying your child. Otherwise, I never would have…”

He Zheyu pressed the cigar forcefully into the ashtray, his voice chilling as he spoke, “Someone must pay the proper price for this. Zhao Siyu’s case is just a token of greeting for you all. Tomorrow, I’ll summon all reporters to the He Group to announce the dissolution of my engagement to Zhao Yiya.”