Yan Zhenzhen had died, murdered.
This was the latest news, and now, not just the Yan family but also Lin Shuangshuang rushed to the police station immediately.
In the bedroom, Qiao An's head throbbed faintly with pain.
She rubbed her temples, sat up, and the silk quilt slid down bit by bit. She looked toward the bedroom door, but Mu Jingxi was nowhere to be seen.
Tossing aside the quilt, she got out of bed and descended downstairs.
Downstairs, the atmosphere was exceptionally somber.
Qiao An heard a servant say, "The police received a call, someone reported seeing a corpse, and by the time the police arrived at the scene, they found out it was Miss Yan who had died…"
A corpse…
Miss Yan…
Her muddled mind pieced the two pieces of information together.
Her eyes suddenly widened with shock. Could it be that Yan Zhenzhen was dead?
The servant looked up, "Miss Qiao..."
Mu Jingxi, holding a cup of water, turned around, "Why did you come down?"
