Chapter 1700: Who Had a Funeral?

She suddenly stared, “What did you see!”

Song Yuan nearly hit her head in front, grasping the steering wheel as she pushed away the strands of hair scattered on her cheeks. She turned her head and was startled by Yi Qinghuan’s gaze.

Clutching the seatbelt, she hesitantly spoke, “What’s wrong?”

“I asked what you saw! How much did you see! Why are you asking like that!”

Yi Qinghuan’s repeated questioning made Song Yuan’s face turn pale with fright. She leaned against the car door, her hands clenched and turning white.

“I…what did I see? I went with you. I don’t know anyone else, but you were gone for so long; I felt especially uneasy. Plus, some man hit on me, and I wanted to leave then. Couldn’t get through your phone, and was afraid to go out and miss you. Just…without you there, I was scared.”

Yi Qinghuan remained silent.

Song Yuan was almost in tears, “Then I felt like the waiting time was extraordinarily long…”

Yi Qinghuan stared at her for a long while before pursing her lips as a scene flashed in her mind where she removed the “Under Repair” sign from the bathroom door. It was strange; it was something she did, but when haunted by nightmares, she could see her own shadow in the dream.

She purposely led Nan Jiaojiao to the floor where Shen Shixuan was, knowing full well their past grievances. Upon meeting, surely there would be trouble, which is exactly what happened, though more ugly than expected.

Loo Family quickly covered it up, so many guests remained unaware.

Afterward, it seemed like things were deliberately erased with many details never re-examined.

She felt fortunate for several days, but Song Yuan’s mention made her anxious.

“It’s nothing, I asked casually, don’t overthink.”

Yi Qinghuan opened the car windows and drove forward.

Song Yuan stole several glances at her, growing more uneasy each time, cautiously leaning back into the seat.

…

The car had just come to a stop.

Mo Tingshen got out immediately.

By the time he reached Chu Yao’s car, the driver had just stopped.

He opened the rear door expecting Chu Yao to be heavily drunk, only to find her bent over savoring a jelly cup.

She asked him, “Want a bite?”

Mo Tingshen pressed his lips, “Sobered up that quickly?”

“I was never drunk. Stayed up all night gaming, couldn’t sleep on the plane, got whisked off to a roadshow right off the flight. Two quick sips caught me off guard, it wasn’t drunkenness, just dizzy.”

“…” He almost wanted to yank her for a beating.

“Why didn’t you explain earlier?”

Chu Yao glanced at him, “It’s fun.”

He was beside himself with anger, dragging her by the arm out of the car, pulling her into his embrace, wrapping her in his coat, and pinching her waist, “One day without mischief and you feel uncomfortable all over.”

Chu Yao handed him her empty jelly cup, “Trash it for me.”

“…”

When Mo Tingshen opened the car door, Nan Jiaojiao had already slipped away from the other side.

Bo Yanching was at the entrance, spotting her and coming forward.

Nan Jiaojiao ran into his embrace, her chin bumping against his chest, “Did you wait long?”

“No, I just got here myself.”

Bo Yanching pulled her out of his arms, holding her with one arm before hugging her back, “Did you have fun today?”

“Quite fun. Did you see the pictures I sent you?”

“I saw them,” he skimmed them with little impression, but the color scheme was striking, “Did you run into a funeral?”

Nan Jiaojiao blinked, unable to hold back and sputtered out a few laughs.