CHAPTER 90: CHAPTER 90: UNSATISFIED DESIRES

Song Zhenhua left home and returned to the factory.

Just as he got back, the director called him away.

For some reason, Song Zhenhua had a bad feeling, as if something was about to happen.

Song Zhenhua arrived at the director’s office.

Wang Hui saw Song Zhenhua, raised his hand, gesturing for him to sit.

Song Zhenhua sat across from Wang Hui.

Wang Hui remained silent, just flipping through the documents in his hand, his expression not looking good.

Song Zhenhua felt like he was sitting on pins and needles.

About ten minutes later, Wang Hui finally put down the things in his hands and looked at Song Zhenhua.

"Old Song, how many years have you been working at our factory?"

Nervous, Song Zhenhua swallowed, saying, "Twenty-three years."

Wang Hui nodded: "Hmm, twenty-three years."

Wang Hui wasn’t originally from this factory, so he hadn’t been there as long as Song Zhenhua.

"In these twenty-three years, how do you think you’ve done?" Wang Hui lightly tapped his fingers on the table, producing a rhythmic knocking sound.

Each knock seemed like Song Zhenhua’s heartbeat.

Song Zhenhua looked at Wang Hui: "Director Wang, has something happened?"

Wang Hui put the documents in front of Song Zhenhua, raising his chin slightly: "Take a look for yourself."

Song Zhenhua looked at the document in front of him, feeling a chill on his back.

His hands trembled as he picked up the document, flipping it open to read the contents inside, his eyes widening, pupils contracting, filled with terror.

His hands trembled even more violently.

Wang Hui stood up, walked to Song Zhenhua’s side, and patted his shoulder: "Old Song, you really messed up. If this had happened a little later, my position would have been yours."

Song Zhenhua’s lips moved, but he couldn’t make a sound.

This incident happened many years ago, and he had hidden it well all along; how could it have been discovered?

Perhaps knowing what Song Zhenhua was thinking, Wang Hui said: "Some things, unless you want no one to know, you must not do. If you had handled it seriously back then, today wouldn’t have happened."

Song Zhenhua recalled eight years ago; it was a regular working day, and he was about to be promoted to factory supervisor.

That day, someone accidentally got hit on the head by machinery at the factory. Fearing the higher-ups would investigate, which would jeopardize his promotion,

he didn’t send the injured employee to the hospital, quietly hiding them instead.

Due to delayed help, that employee later died.

Afterward, he paid off the witnesses to keep them quiet.

The deceased employee’s family initially sought the factory for an explanation.

At the time, Song Zhenhua sent them a sum of money, but they didn’t accept it. The parents just wanted to know how their healthy son suddenly died.

Seeing that giving money didn’t work, he hired someone to threaten the parents.

But they were unyielding, insisting on justice.

With no choice, Song Zhenhua ended up killing the parents too.

He was in an unfocused state during that period, often taking out his fears on Chen Jinlan with beatings and scoldings.

Using it as an outlet for his fear.

As the years went by, the matter remained undiscovered.

All those in the know were sent away under various pretexts.

Gradually, he forgot about the incident’s existence.

He never expected it to resurface today.

Yes, if Song Zhenhua had managed it well back then, even if he hadn’t become a supervisor then, with his abilities, he would have eventually made it.

But he was too afraid back then.

Wang Hui sighed: "Old Song, if only you had known what today would be like back then."

As soon as he spoke, the police arrived.

"Hello, which one is Song Zhenhua?"

Wang Hui glanced at the police at the door, then at Song Zhenhua beside him.

The arresting officer glanced at Song Zhenhua and approached him: "Hello, we suspect you’re related to a murder case from eight years ago, please come with us."

Song Zhenhua collapsed to the ground, not even knowing how he ended up at the police station.

When he was finally brought to the station, it dawned on him.

He said to the officer who was guarding him: "I need to find Jiang Jingming, you have to bring Jiang Jingming here."

After all, Jiang Jingming is his niece’s husband.

He must be able to help him.

His later years can’t be spent here.

But no one paid him any attention.

...

Jiang Jingming picked up Sang Yu, who was lying on the sofa, and sat her on his lap.

"What do you want for dinner?"

Recently, Sang Yu felt a bit lazy, not wanting to move.

The man’s thigh was a bit hard, and Sang Yu felt uncomfortable sitting, so she shifted and swung her legs: "Anything’s fine."

She watched the TV show in front of her; although it was somewhat old, it was quite good.

Compared to the repetitive fantasy dramas later, the current shows were comforting to watch, deeper, more meaningful, and the stories sensible.

Jiang Jingming raised his hand, wiping off the crumb of osmanthus cake from her lips.

He popped it into his mouth.

Seeing this, Sang Yu said disdainfully: "Jiang Jingming, you’re so dirty."

Jiang Jingming chuckled softly, "Then let’s be dirty together."

He lowered his head to kiss her lips, twisting and turning, as Sang Yu squirmed restlessly.

But soon, she sensed something unusual about the man.

She pushed Jiang Jingming away: "What are you doing?"

Jiang Jingming pressed his forehead against hers, voice deep and hoarse: "I can’t help it, I like you too much; I just want to be close to you."

Sang Yu blushed: "Jiang Jingming, you’re shameless."

Jiang Jingming laughed lightly: "What is shame? Is it more delicious than you?"

With those words, Jiang Jingming picked Sang Yu up and headed upstairs, when someone knocked on the door outside.

Sang Yu quickly shook her head: "Go open the door."

A trace of unsatisfied desire and displeasure flashed in Jiang Jingming’s eyes.

He gently put Sang Yu down, then turned to open the door.

Xu Ru’an saw Jiang Jingming’s somewhat gloomy face and was a bit dazed.

I didn’t do anything wrong, right?

Why does Brother Jiang look so strange, as if he was interrupted?

"Brother Jiang, is Sang Yu home?" Xu Ru’an asked cautiously.

Jiang Jingming’s expression was indifferent: "Yes."

Sang Yu heard Xu Ru’an’s voice and came over: "Ru’an, what brings you here?"

Xu Ru’an replied: "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Xu Ru’an carefully glanced at Jiang Jingming.

Sang Yu turned to look at the man.

Jiang Jingming seemed a bit helpless, "I’ll go make dinner."

Sang Yu nodded.

Once the man left, Xu Ru’an breathed a sigh of relief.

"What’s wrong with Brother Jiang? He seemed to be in a bad mood."

[Don’t lock me in the small black house, don’t close me out]