The executor slammed his hand on the table, his voice gradually quickening.
"Hmph, we originally thought your right hand was a professional ailment from years of sea labor, but we never expected it to have such an origin. However, those who injured you were also fools, because you're actually left-handed! And what's more, you never imagined that this very scene would be witnessed by one of your relatives or friends present, who then drew it on paper!"
"So what if I'm left-handed!"
"It doesn't matter. Heaven's net is vast and its meshes are fine. Take a good look at this photo!"
The executor tossed out the photo, taken by the forensic doctor with a Polaroid. The image showed Yang Lan's swollen head, with a spot circled in marker. There was a barely visible needle mark at that spot.
"When a normal person attacks from the front with their right hand, the wound will inevitably be on the opponent's left side. But this wound, quite by chance, is on the right. What else do you have to say for yourself! Do I need to bring out the insurance policies for your wife and daughter!"
At the executor's words, a clamor erupted from the relatives and friends. Curses and pointing fingers filled the air.
At this point, all motives for murder were present, and the evidence was conclusive. Only the insurance policies were needed to seal the deal. Yang Hua knew the tide had turned against him and slumped to the ground like a defeated dog.
"My son, why would you do this? Even a tiger doesn't eat its cubs. You are worse than an animal!" His elderly mother was about to rise and deliver a furious scolding when, under the double blow, she fainted!
The relatives and friends quickly gathered around, pointing fingers at him and shouting curses, while some called for an ambulance. The scene became somewhat chaotic.
Yang Hua's eyes bulged with hatred. He hated that his meticulously planned murder-for-insurance scheme had been flawless. If not for that undertaker, perhaps everything would have turned out differently. Perhaps he would be sitting on a sunny beach right now, watching the fishermen who toiled their lives away go out to sea. And he, with the insurance money, could have enjoyed wealth and luxury until he grew old and died!
It was all the undertaker's fault!
The surrounding jeers and curses flooded his ears like a tide. His gaze suddenly turned as cold as a knife. He suddenly got up from the ground, driven by hatred, drew a short dagger from his waist, and lunged at Murong Yan like a hungry wolf!
"Miss Murong, that person might be cornered and desperate. Quickly get behind me!"
Ren Yuanhao pulled her behind him without question, feeling a cold glint aimed directly at his chest.
Yang Hua, intent on death, spared no effort. The blade sliced through the air, but Ren Yuanhao remained unmoved. He simply slanted a palm forward. Yang Hua's hand trembled, and the dagger flew out of his grasp. Still not giving up, Yang Hua threw a punch at his face. But such a weak move was like a joke to Ren Yuanhao. With a mere flick of his fingers, he deflected the punch and sent Yang Hua stumbling back several steps.
The executor arrived just in time, grabbed his hand, and cuffed him, immobilizing him.
...
After half an hour of investigation and organization, the matter was essentially settled, and the case finally came to light.
"Miss Murong, thank you for your support. We need to handle the subsequent matters, so we'll be taking our leave."
The executor shook Murong Yan's hand, then extended his hand to Ren Yuanhao. "Ren Yuanhao, have you considered helping us?"
"Uh... well, I'm not one for being controlled, and I'm used to living a free life, so I'll pass."
After Ren Yuanhao shook hands with him, the two men escorted Yang Hua into a police car and drove away.
"I never imagined some people would abandon their humanity for their own gain," Murong Yan's voice was soft, much like her name.
"Alas, your date was delayed like this. Don't you feel regretful?" Ren Yuanhao tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"That depends on whether Young Master Ren wants to make it up to me," Murong Yan lowered her head and smiled faintly, like pear blossoms in full bloom swaying in the wind.
"It would be my pleasure," Ren Yuanhao made a gesture of utmost gentlemanly invitation.
"Alright, wait for me for a moment. I'll change my clothes and take you somewhere."
Murong Yan left with a faint smile. Ten minutes later, she reappeared dressed in a white dress and black skirt, her hair styled in a bun. She held an oil-paper umbrella to shield herself from the sun, looking like a beautiful woman from the Republic of China era, which reminded Ren Yuanhao of Lin Huiyin.
"Miss, are you going to a cosplay event?" Before Ren Yuanhao finished speaking, he reached out, delicately plucking a fallen leaf from her hair.
Murong Yan smiled faintly, her dimples as radiant as clouds. "You'll know when you follow me."
The two walked, one after the other, through layers of woodland. The crematorium was hidden by towering ancient trees. About ten minutes later, they arrived at a desolate grave.
"This is my parents' tomb. It's been a long time since I've visited. For some reason, I particularly wanted to see it today."
Murong Yan placed the fruit she was carrying before the grave. Her face did not show excessive sadness. Instead, she took Ren Yuanhao's hand and said to the conjoined tomb, "Dad, Mom, I brought my boyfriend to see you today. What do you think? He's tall and handsome, isn't he?"
Seeing this, Ren Yuanhao suddenly thought of his parents far away in their small town. He hadn't been back for over half a year. He resolved to find an opportunity to return during his next leave.
"Have you been living alone all these years? Do you have any other relatives?" Ren Yuanhao knew the hardships of living alone in the world and tightened his grip on her hand.
Murong Yan held the oil-paper umbrella, and the faint sunlight filtered through the trees, bright and playful. She smiled and said, "When my parents passed away, I was fifteen. I didn't have any other relatives. The uncles and aunties at the crematorium are my family. They sent me to school and took great care of me. I'm actually luckier than many people."
As Murong Yan spoke, there was no trace of sadness or a desire for sympathy in her words. She simply narrated, her eyes reflecting the warm light of April.
"Thank you for giving me such a wonderful experience. To be honest, I initially thought your work was just a trick to fool children."