Chapter 122 The Singer, Oh, Singer 55

"Answer when I ask you a question. Don't sit there pretending you can't hear or playing deaf, and don't even think about trying to fool me, hmm?"

Hou Yongcheng collapsed on the ground, nodding weakly.

Only then did Lin Xiangjun pull the fabric out of his mouth.

Sure enough, a tooth had fallen out. The fabric was covered not only in saliva but also blood, a sticky, slimy mess that made her frown in disgust as she tossed it aside.

She sat down on the grand armchair and wiped her hands with a wet wipe.

"Alright, speak now. What is your relationship with Hou Pan?"

Hou Yongcheng opened his mouth, but before he could speak, he spat out two teeth, followed by a mouthful of bloody foam.

He didn't even dare to spit the blood for too long, terrified that this terrifying woman would rain down another beating on him.

"Hou Pan... is the son of my older brother, Hou Yongxin. He is my nephew..."

The Landlady had two sons and one daughter. The eldest son, Hou Yongxin, was a businessman with a very good family situation. The second son, Hou Yongcheng, had yet to marry and remained by the Landlady's side, running a supermarket; business was decent, and he lived a fairly comfortable life.

Hou Yongxin had made a fortune in business early on, then married a girl from a good family, bought a villa and a luxury car, and had a son early—that was Hou Pan.

After Hou Yongxin made his fortune, he did his best to support his mother and younger brother—the house the Old Lady lived in was bought with his money, the items in the house were purchased by him, and even Hou Yongcheng's small supermarket had been contracted by Hou Yongxin for him.

Originally, everything was going smoothly.

Until Hou Pan gradually grew up and began to show his unusual nature.

Hou Yongxin and his wife both had careers to attend to, so they didn't spend much time with Hou Pan.

There were childcare workers, chefs, and nannies at home. Hou Pan's pocket money was deposited into a card, and the amount was quite substantial, so his parents always felt that Hou Pan lacked nothing, and they didn't give him much attention.

Growing up in such a family, it was inevitable that Hou Pan's personality would become twisted.

Even in elementary school, he caused trouble several times—using a lighter to burn classmates' school uniform jackets, pulling girls' braids so hard it ripped a patch of hair off their scalp, or stuffing thumbtacks into male classmates' shoes.

He did many such things, and the teachers seriously explained the severity of the situation to Hou Yongxin. However, Hou Yongxin himself felt these were just minor matters; as a young boy, it was inevitable that Hou Pan would be mischievous. Besides, didn't the other students not suffer any serious, substantial harm? Just paying some money would settle it.

The parents of the classmates all received generous compensation, so they naturally let the matter drop.

All of this was seen by the young Hou Pan.

Children have no concept of right and wrong; they only know how to imitate—imitating teachers, classmates, and friends, but most importantly, imitating their own parents.

Thus, due to Hou Yongxin's actions, the young Hou Pan established a ridiculously wrong set of values: "Oh, so as long as I have money, I can do whatever I want."

No wonder they said this child, Hou Pan, was sharp—once he learned a phrase, he would use it at 150% intensity.

Him doing whatever he wanted was one thing, but the key issue was that he was a creep.

Speaking of this, even Hou Yongcheng couldn't stand it. While spitting out bloody foam with "ptui, ptui, ptui," he desperately tried to do sit-ups using his neck—all four of his limbs had been broken by Lin Xiangjun, so he couldn't use any part of his body to sit up.

The back of Hou Yongcheng's head knocked loudly against the floor: "That brat is purely here to collect a debt! A normal man, even if he's a bit lecherous, would look for a pretty young girl in her early twenties, or maybe a mature woman in her thirties or forties—that's no problem. But that brat, that brat must have had his brain trampled by a cannon to go after an eighty-year-old Old Lady! You tell me, you tell me?!"

"The Old Lady is so hard of hearing she can't even hear! He shouted at her three times in a row and got beaten by the Old Lady with a cane. Ptui, why didn't she beat him to death!"

Lin Xiangjun: ...

What could she say? Say that Hou Pan's existence enriched biodiversity? Or say that this kind of thinking from Hou Pan was already suspected of elder abuse?

"I think you can skip these unimportant background details. My ears have a life too. If you pollute my ears with this kind of talk again, I will chop off your legs."

Hou Yongcheng shut his mouth.

Broken legs could be reattached, but if they were chopped off, that was a different story; even if the Great Immortal came, he wouldn't be able to escape the fate of paying tribute to Hawking.

"Get to the point. What happened after he died? Where did you hide him? Why can't Hu Zhengzheng find him? If you use this kind of useless information to stall for time again..."

Hou Yongcheng hurriedly stopped his incessant, useless complaining.

"I actually don't know much about the rest... Hey! Hey! Hey!! Don't be in such a rush to cover my mouth, let me finish, let me finish!!!"

Seeing that Lin Xiangjun looked like she had lost her patience and intended to send him to the afterlife, Hou Yongcheng hurriedly stiffened his neck and spoke dozens of times faster, terrified that if he was a second too late, this terrifying woman would let him know what kind of shitty experience being chopped into mince was.

"I only know that the reason Hu Zhengzheng can't find Hou Pan is because Hou Pan hid himself! He hid his scent and anything else that might leak information!!"

Hu Zhengzheng couldn't find Hou Pan because Hou Pan had hidden himself.

Hmm, very correct, very accurate. Except for being nonsense, there was no problem with it.

The sharp knife spun in the air, flicking up the rag that had fallen on the floor—the one used to plug his mouth earlier—and was about to stuff it back into Hou Yongcheng's mouth with clean, efficient movements.

Seeing that the dirty, filthy rag—stained with saliva and blood, and now covered in dust—was about to be stuffed back into his mouth, Hou Yongcheng, knowing he was about to be severely beaten again, panicked.

"I'm not lying to you! I'm really not lying to you!"

The filthy rag hovered ten centimeters above his head.

Lin Xiangjun's voice was icy: "Of course I know you aren't lying, but do you think using this kind of nonsense to waste my time means you won't get beaten?"

Hou Yongcheng might as well have had the words "Unjustly Accused" written on his face.

"I really don't want to not say it, it's just that this is all I know!"

"Useless people also have to get beaten."

Hou Yongcheng was choked up, his neck stiffening. His brain worked frantically, desperately weighing the options between "possibly being beaten to death" and "definitely being punished."

Finally, as the stench of the dirty rag filled his nostrils and grew stronger, and seeing that it was about to be stuffed into his mouth the next second, Hou Yongcheng finally made up his mind.

Being punished didn't necessarily mean death.

But getting beaten by this crazy woman might be a different story.

At this point, his life was more important!

"Stop! Stop! I know more clues!"

The rag stopped one centimeter from his lips.

Hou Yongcheng desperately raised his head, trying to keep the rag as far away from himself as possible.

"After Hou Pan killed Hu Zhengzheng, Hu Zhengzheng turned into a ghost! He was afraid of being discovered by Hu Zhengzheng, so he stole a dress from Hu Zhengzheng!"

"Because the dress had Hu Zhengzheng's scent on it, he was mistaken for Hu Zhengzheng! He also turned into half a ghost!"

Lin Xiangjun raised an eyebrow and tossed the rag aside.

Finally, he had said something she didn't know.

Hou Yongcheng gasped for air. He was truly terrified of this crazy woman. Seeing that she seemed interested in these matters, he hurriedly spilled everything like beans pouring out of a pot, emptying out all the information he had.