“People who have died cannot come back to life. If Linglan girl could see you from heaven, she definitely wouldn’t want to see the two of you like this.”
“Right, you should both live well and peacefully grow old. Only then can Linglan rest easy.”
Chunfang and a few other neighbors helped the old man into the house, comforting him for a long while before coming back out.
Seeing Song Qiaoan waiting outside, Chunfang looked apologetic. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“It’s fine. What happened to their daughter?” Song Qiaoan asked. She had overheard a few things at the door and couldn’t help being curious.
“Old Liu’s daughter was the only college student in our village. A few years ago, she went to Shanghai for university and then suddenly disappeared.”
“They said she went missing, but chances are she was murdered.”
Such a good girl, gone just like that who could possibly accept that?
Song Qiaoan frowned. “Didn’t they report it to the police?”
“They did. They even went to the city public security bureau, but nothing was found.” Chunfang lowered her voice and leaned closer to Song Qiaoan.
“This case isn’t simple. It’s likely she offended some big shot. When the old couple came back, they were covered in injuries we don’t even dare ask what happened.”
After saying that, Chunfang slapped her own head and smiled apologetically. “Ah, I’ve gone off topic. I still need to catch your chickens. Look at me, my memory!”
She turned back to the chicken coop to get busy, packed up the chickens and ducks, and even specially hired an ox cart for Song Qiaoan.
The two parted at the village entrance. Along the way, Song Qiaoan kept thinking about that missing girl.
What kind of “big shot” could cover up even a murder?
She suddenly thought of Wang Shichang.
Since the last big argument, Song Jianren had behaved himself for a few days. Song Qiaoan had thought they had backed off, but unexpectedly, they really managed to scrape together the money.
“You said it yourself last time once we return your study-abroad fund, you’ll help Jiabao take the exam in his place.” Zhang Meilan slapped a passbook in front of her, looking smug.
Song Qiaoan said nothing, staring coldly at the passbook in silence for a long time.
If Zhang Meilan dared to hand it over, it meant the money could be withdrawn from the bank at any time its origin was legitimate.
But… where did they get so much money?
Song Qiaoan thought carefully, but her expression didn’t change at all. She happily took the passbook. “Fine, I keep my word. I’ll reluctantly help Song Jiabao this once.”
Seeing her hopelessly money-driven look, Zhang Meilan felt contemptuous, but also relieved.
This girl really hadn’t changed still the same as before, only caring about money and easy to control.
She touched the medicine bottle in her pocket and sneered inwardly. Once the drug was used at the birthday banquet, she would see how long this brat could still smile.
“Qiao’an, Auntie has another small matter to discuss with you,” Zhang Meilan said with a polite smile.
“What is it?”
“It’s about transferring your job to Weiwei. She was immature back then. We’ll compensate you with money. Could you transfer the job to her?”
Song Qiaoan raised a brow. She had been waiting for exactly this.
She had already prepared the photos. She was just waiting for Song Weiwei to walk right into the trap and hand herself over to Zhang Qing.
Thanks to Song Weiwei taking an interest in her job, she now had the perfect chance to lure her in.
She sneered inwardly, but on the surface she pretended to hesitate. “Alright.”
“That’s wonderful! I’ll have Weiwei properly thank you another day. How about we go to your workplace together to handle the transfer procedures?”
“No need to make it so complicated,” Song Qiaoan said calmly. “I’ll resign myself and inform my supervisor. Then Song Weiwei can just go and start work directly.”
“You’re really thoughtful!” Zhang Meilan’s smile deepened.
Now that both her son’s and daughter’s matters were settled, she felt unusually relaxed so smooth it almost felt unreal.
After Zhang Meilan left, Song Qiaoan picked up the passbook on the table.
She still couldn’t understand where exactly did they get the money?
Song Jianren was a useless live-in son-in-law who had once relied on the Shen family. After her mother died, he should have long since squandered everything. There was no way he could suddenly produce 100,000.
Even if it was borrowed, that wasn’t a small amount. With his character, who would trust him enough to lend that much?
Suddenly, a thought flashed through her mind.
Wang Shichang.
Besides him, she couldn’t think of anyone else who had both money and close ties with Song Jianren.
Why would Wang Shichang lend them money? What deal did they make?
Strangely enough, Wang Shichang had also been unusually quiet lately he hadn’t been bothering her as much, and hadn’t invited her out like before.
In her previous life, after the Fu family was rehabilitated, Fu Chen returned to Shanghai and ruthlessly targeted the Wang family, gathering evidence day and night, plotting in secret. In less than half a year, he completely destroyed the Wang family.
And personally sent Wang Shichang to the execution ground.
After the execution, Fu Chen went to the cemetery and knelt before her tomb for a long time without a word, until dawn.
That was the first time Song Qiaoan had seen him cry. Her soul had also dissipated at that moment and when she opened her eyes again, she had been reborn.
Thinking of that man’s trembling figure as he cried, Song Qiaoan felt her heart tighten and let out a deep sigh.
Going against Wang Shichang was too dangerous. She didn’t want to take risks and could only find another way.
She remembered that Wang Shichang’s cousin had once killed a girl. Afterward, for unknown reasons, he had remained free and unpunished.
Maybe she could start from there.
If there was solid evidence, she wouldn’t even need to step forward the police would arrest him directly.
But the problem was she knew very little about it. She didn’t even know who the victim was. How could she possibly find evidence?
Reporting it directly would only alert them and bring her no benefit.
Song Qiaoan frowned in frustration, her head aching from overthinking, and decided to stop for now.
Tomorrow she would visit her uncle. Ever since her mother and grandfather passed away, he was her only remaining relative in the Shen family.
In her previous life, shortly after she married, her uncle was diagnosed with terminal cancer and passed away in less than half a year.
Now that heaven had given her a chance at rebirth, she absolutely could not let that tragedy repeat itself.
Song Qiaoan entered her space and used spiritual spring water to stew a pot of bird’s nest porridge, planning to bring it to her uncle tomorrow to nourish his health.
She hadn’t had time to properly organize the supplies she had stockpiled in the black market, nor had she planted the seeds she bought.
She had never done farm work before and was worried it would be difficult, afraid she might ruin the seeds.
But reality proved she was overthinking.
The moment she scattered the seeds onto the black soil, a glowing screen appeared in front of her. With a tap on “one-click sowing,” the seeds instantly buried themselves evenly into the soil, which then smoothed itself out.
It was even more miraculous than immortal magic described in novels.
Song Qiaoan was stunned. She then selected watering and fertilizing one by one. Fertilizer appeared out of thin air, and then rain began to fall from above, automatically irrigating the fields.
When it was done, a timer icon appeared on the screen. She guessed that once the countdown ended, she would be able to harvest.
After planting, she drove the chickens and ducks she had bought into a fenced enclosure equipped with an automatic feeding system, requiring no further care.
The supplies she had previously purchased were piled casually in the open space. Now that she had time, she sorted them carefully and stored them properly inside the house.
The next day, Song Qiaoan put the bird’s nest porridge into a thermos, bought a few pastries and tonics from a shop, and went to her uncle’s house.
“Miss, why are you here?” The butler opened the door, surprised to see her.
“Uncle Wang, I came to see my uncle. How has his health been recently?”
Uncle Wang paused. “He… he’s been fine, Miss. No need to worry.”
But Song Qiaoan didn’t believe polite reassurances like that. If he were really fine, how could he have been diagnosed with cancer two years later?