The cold-blooded president chased his wife to the crematorium after the divorce

Li Chenxiao glanced at Li Manman with his cold eyes that seemed to be able to see through people. She immediately seemed to be cast under a spell and dared not say a word.

Li Manman's flattery, like the Yellow River bursting its banks, had no effect on Li Chenxiao.

The man glanced at the direction where the woman left in panic, without any emotion in his eyes.

He sat on the chair expressionlessly. The man's handsome face seemed to be covered with a layer of frost, but a lingering dark air unconsciously permeated his heart.

That woman actually had a child.

I don’t know which wild man this little bastard is with.

That little fat girl is as fat as a ball. I don’t know how Qiao Yan keeps her healthy.

Heavier than a piglet.

"Brother?" Li Manman stood beside her fearfully and glanced at her brother cautiously. She didn't dare to breathe and was as quiet as a partridge.

She really didn't understand her brother's expression at all, it seemed like he was sulking.

But no one bothered him.

Li Chenxiao sat there with a cold face, exuding a hostile aura. When he heard Li Manman's call, he said "hmm" indifferently.

Qiao Yan held Qiao Keke in his arms and ran for his life, as if there was a ghost chasing him.

Li Jingxing is not dead.

He is still alive.

He met Qiao Keke.

As long as the man checks, he will be able to find out that the daughter is his.

Qiao Yan couldn't hide the truth.

Qiao Yan hugged her daughter tightly in her arms. Her whole body was very stiff and her eyes were dazed and unable to focus as she looked ahead.

She had thought about the scene of meeting Li Jingxing countless times, and had also thought about the possibility that he was really dead countless times.

Probably never thought they would meet like this.

He's not dead.

Even though his name had changed, Qiao Yan could still recognize him in the crowd at a glance.

Even if Li Jingxing turned into ashes, she would never forget him.

Qiao Yan's fingers trembled as she called Ji Qian'an. The call was quickly picked up, and a man's magnetic voice said, "Hello?"

Qiao Yan pinched her own flesh tightly with her fingers, trying hard to control her trembling voice: "Li Jingxing is not dead, did you know from the beginning?"

She was not questioning, but confirming.

Ji Qian pondered for a moment, standing in front of the French window with one hand in his pocket. There was no trace of surprise on the man's face at Qiao Yan's words. His magnetic voice overflowed from his throat: "Did you meet?"

Qiao Yan was stunned for a moment, and murmured: "You really know."

Over the years, Qiao Yan's life was not particularly good. She was sick and her condition was very serious.

If it weren't for Qiao Keke, she might not have the desire to keep herself alive.

Maybe, he also died that year.

The father whom she had admired since childhood, the deceased ex-husband, and the person she once loved most, all passed through her hands.

Qiao Yan blamed herself for the rest of her life but could never forgive herself. She lived in the past and no one could save her.

When Ji Qian heard this, he just raised his eyebrows slightly, neither confirming nor denying.

Qiao Yan hung up the phone, and a hollow voice came from the other end.

Ji Yanzhi walked in carelessly with a pile of paper money, incense, candles, and firecrackers in one hand and a wreath in the other.

He pushed the door open and looked at Ji Qianan who was standing in front of the French window: "Go buy some flowers tomorrow and go to the cemetery to pay tribute to A Jing."

"Hey, I haven't visited him for a long time. I've been very busy recently."

"I hope he doesn't blame me."