827: The Mistress is Here At the Doorstep!

The Mistress is Here At the Doorstep!

They interrogated her thinking that she was a liar. Mrs. Helan could not take it anymore. "I've already told you that he's real! He's real. He's real… Why can't you believe me?" she roared, "You've seen Yue Pengcheng's photos too. They look exactly the same. There's not a single speck of difference between them. How is it possible that two people look so alike on this earth? Not even twins look so similar. Don't you police use your brains when you're investigating?"2

 The policeman jotting all this down did not get angry. "Why is it so strange to have a doppelganger when the world is so big?" he said, "Yue Pengcheng's death certificate, along with the supporting documents, is complete and all in order. You can keep denying it today, but there's no use in you arguing any further when we find out the truth."

 Mrs. Helan was so angry that she wanted to spew blood.

 The police then left. She was left alone there, lying on the bed. There was a tightness and ache around her chest when she breathed.

 Helan Mingde was not here. Neither was Helan Fangnian. She did not know how her daughter fared now either.

 Turmoil raged in Mrs. Helan.

 Someone entered the ward. "I already told you that I don't know anything. I don't know anything," Mrs. Helan said, assuming that it was the police again, "What more do you want to ask me? Do you want to force a confession out of me?"

 A timid voice rang out from the entrance after a while. "Sis Zhang, forgive my intrusion…"

 Mrs. Helan whipped her head around wildly when she heard that voice. A woman in her thirties stood at the entrance. Her features were soft, delicate, making her look younger than her actual age. She was not particularly attractive, but she had an air of calmness that was pleasing to the senses, and her voice was soothing.

 She looked like someone who did not have a lick of feistiness in her. Her voice and features gave out a very tranquil vibe. 

 However, Mrs. Helan turned into a raging pitbull in a split second at the sight of this person. "Who let you in here? Get out! Get out… you b*tch, you vixen… Don't think about coming here to show off. Get the f*ck out…"

 Of course, Mrs. Helan knew this person—this was the mistress Helan Mingde was seeing, Li Jingyi.

 This was another thorn that had long wedged in Mrs. Helan's heart. She had always wanted to pluck it out, but could not.

 That year, she knew that Helan Mingde was having an affair and even conducted a private investigation, but… she restrained herself from doing anything. This was only to maintain the image she had in Helan Mingde's eyes and to solidify her position. She felt that a mistress was only, after all, a mistress. She would never be elevated to a more refined position. Besides, everyone would know if she made a fuss about it. How would she keep up the image of a harmonious marital bond between her and Helan Mingde outside then?

 That was why Mrs. Helan had tolerated Li Jingyi.

 She tolerated her for so long—up until she fell into ruin.

 Li Jingyi's smile was amicable and gentle. She brought a thermal carrier into the room as if she did not hear Mrs. Helan's hatred and her raging voice.

 "I cooked some chicken soup for you, Sis," Li Jingyi said, smiling. "I just made it, simmering it at low heat for the whole day. Try it, sis."

 Li Jingyi poured a bowl of chicken soup out. The black chicken soup was beautifully clear, the oil over the surface carefully skimmed away. The fragrant aroma especially whetted appetites.

 She took a spoon and scooped some chicken soup, cautiously blowing over it before thrusting it before Mrs. Helan's face. "Give it a try, sis. Mingde too has always liked this chicken soup. I don't know how to do anything else except to boil some soup. Mingde always loves drinking a bowl of my chicken soup every time he comes over to my place. I think you'll like it too, Sis."

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