Five Treasures for One Birth: The President's Wife is the Group's Favorite

Immediately afterwards, the sound of leather shoes rubbing against the floor gradually sounded.

Ling Mohan entered the room.

In the room, a strong smell of traditional Chinese medicine stagnated in the air and lingered for a long time.

Ling Mohan frowned when he smelled the pungent smell of traditional Chinese medicine.

"Uh…"

In the darkness, on the bed at the back of the room, a man uttered a painful voice.

As if aware of someone entering the room, his volume gradually increased.

"Uh...uh..."

However, all he could hear was this kind of dumb cry coming from his throat.

In this dark room, like a ghost coming to kill, it looks particularly creepy.

Snapped _

Ling Mohan raised his hand and turned on the light in the room.

Everything in the room is instantly clear.

This is a very simple and spacious room.

The size of the room is huge, which is quite different from the luxurious French style of other rooms in the Ling family.

All the furniture is simple and elegant pure solid wood, and there are several paintings of celebrities hanging on the walls.

In the room, a large solid wood bookshelf was specially built, filled with various literature books.

On the desk behind the bookshelf, there is a piece of rice paper, and there is an unfinished word on the rice paper.

Judging from the overall decoration of the room, the owner of this room must be a literati who loves calligraphy and painting.

Ling Mohan's eyes gradually fell on the big bed.

Lying on the bed was a man with a square face and three-dimensional features. He looked about 50 or [-] years old, but silver wires hung on his temples.

When the man on the bed saw Ling Mohan, he fixed his eyes fiercely on him, opened his mouth slightly, and seemed to want to say something, but could only say with difficulty: "Uh...uh..."

Ling Mohan gradually walked to the bed and sat down.

He stared at the man on the bed, this was his father, Ling Wenhua.

He had already been seriously ill and paralyzed, unable to move his body.

The only parts of the body that can move are the eyes, mouth, and fingers.

But even though he could open his mouth with difficulty, he couldn't say a word at all.

Every time Ling Mohan went to visit him, this man would look at him with strange eyes.

From this look, he saw anger and hatred.

Now, it's the same.

The man who called him his father seemed to get very excited every time he saw him.

Ling Mohan looked at the man on the bed who had been staring at him and kept making "uh uh" sounds, and asked, "You seem to hate me?"

Ling Wenhua's chest rose and fell, and he opened his mouth with difficulty: "Uh, uh..."

Even though he couldn't speak, Ling Mohan had already got the answer from his eyes.

His eyes turned cold, and his pupils shrank slightly: "Why, am I not your son?"

As soon as his words came out, Ling Wenhua was suddenly excited.

Even though he couldn't move his whole body, Ling Mohan could still feel the bed shaking slightly.

For his violent reaction, Ling Mohan's cold face showed puzzlement.

He couldn't remember anything about the past.

I don't even remember why my father hated me so much.

He looked at Ling Wenhua who struggled on the bed for a while, then suddenly stopped.

He stared blankly at the ceiling, with despair on his face.

"Don't worry, I have sent people to seek medical treatment everywhere, and you will be cured."

After hearing Ling Mohan's words, Ling Wenhua's eyes moved, and the look in Ling Mohan's eyes changed from anger to doubt, with a hint of expectation.

Ling Mohan could see from his eyes that he wanted to live, and he wanted to live well, not like the living dead now.

After finishing speaking, Ling Mohan got up, turned off the light in the room, and strode out.

In the room, Ling Wenhua stared blankly at the ceiling, a tear overflowed from his vicissitudes of life.

...

City S.

The sky is getting brighter.

At six or seven o'clock in the morning, the sun shines unsparingly into this bustling city.

And at the door of Mu's house, a large group of reporters had gathered early.

These reporters carried video cameras and surrounded the gate of Mu's house early in the morning.

Mu's servants stood outside the gate and drove them away.

"What are you reporters doing, this is a private place, you can't take random pictures, you leave immediately!"

The reporter, however, was beating his blood like chicken blood, and had a strong drive to break into Mu's house.

Some reporters even wanted to find out about Mu Jingchen from Mu's servants.

"Excuse me, is Mu Jingchen really dead? Why was he in that abandoned factory during the explosion?"

"I heard that Mu Jingchen has passed away for a month. Why is the Mu family hiding the news of Mu Jingchen's death? Is this fair to the deceased?"

"May I ask what the Mu family plans to do with the corpse in the autopsy center?"

The servants at the door of Mu's house were slapped in the face by the microphones in the hands of these reporters.

Seeing them say this about their young master, the servants felt disgusted.

"Whoever said that our young master is dead, hurry up and stop talking nonsense here!"

The reporter, however, persisted and asked, "Since the young master of the Mu family is not dead, why hasn't he shown himself in City S for a month?

A month ago, the bodyguard of the young master of the Mu family was also present at the explosion in the abandoned factory. How can this be explained? "

There are nearly a hundred reporters at the gate of Mu's house.

It was reported on the Internet yesterday that Mu Jingchen had passed away. All major newspapers wanted to get the first news, so they surrounded the Mu family.

Early this morning, reporters from major newspapers surrounded the door.

If anyone got the first-hand information about Mu Jingchen, it would be a shocking revelation, and the entire newspaper office would follow suit, and the traffic would be even more unpredictable.

So, they all couldn't wait to get a share of the action.

In the past, when Mu Jingchen was around, newspaper reporters did not dare to take random pictures due to his majesty.

Now that they heard that Mu Jingchen had passed away, all the newspaper offices in S city were mobilized.

One wave surrounded the door of Mu's house, and there was another even bigger wave, which was naturally at the autopsy center.

At this moment, in the Mu family hall.

Bai Liyue received a call from the autopsy center early in the morning.

The autopsy center was besieged by hundreds of reporters and couldn't perform its work normally, so they asked Bai Liyue to take the corpse back quickly.

Bai Liyue came down from the second floor, with the phone still ringing in her ear, she replied: "Sorry for causing you trouble, I will definitely pick up the corpse within today."

She made repeated promises, and only then did the autopsy center agree to save her for the last day.

After hanging up the phone, Bai Liyue's brows were stained with melancholy.

If that corpse was brought back to the Mu family, the Mu family would definitely bury him in Mu Jingchen's name.

But, that wasn't Mu Jingchen.

Even if she didn't care, the relatives of the Mu family would bring the corpse back sooner or later.

When Mu Jingchen was here, he never let his relatives go through the back door, and suppressed those relatives who wanted to get something for nothing and reach the sky in one step. Those relatives of the Mu family had long criticized him.

Now she heard that, these days, Mu Yebai has let several relatives join the management of the Mu Group. Many relatives and friends of the Mu family are grateful to Mu Yebai and obey him.

Naturally, they would not want Mu Jingchen to come back and cut off their money.

Therefore, no matter whether Mu Jingchen is dead or fake, they all hope that he is dead.