CEO's Ugly Flash-Marriage Wife Hides So Many Identities
Chapter 347: You Really Can’t Control Me

Chapter 347: Chapter 347: You Really Can’t Control Me

Elder Qiao was momentarily speechless.

He realized that Qiao Rui always managed to infuriate him to the brink of madness.

Yet she maintained her calm and indifferent demeanor, leaving him no choice but to stew in his own anger—getting mad was futile.

Because he could clearly sense that this girl simply didn’t care.

Seeing Elder Qiao silent, Qiao Rui assumed he’d given up and grinned as she spoke, "Grandfather, what I buy is my own freedom. I didn’t spend your money, so you can’t control me."

"You!" Elder Qiao’s face darkened instantly. "You think I can’t control you, so you deliberately provoke me, is that it?"

"Exactly." Qiao Rui nodded. "You really can’t control me. But I didn’t provoke you intentionally—it’s you who enjoys getting angry."

"Your wings have hardened!" Elder Qiao sneered coldly.

Qiao Rui nodded again. "Yes, there’s a saying popular in our village: ’I spend my own money, and anyone who tries to interfere is just talking nonsense.’"

"You’re spending Pei Liyan’s money," Elder Qiao said solemnly. "That money is for projects that could quickly turn the tide."

"He’s mine," Qiao Rui said deliberately. "If I want to spend a little to buy a car, he wouldn’t mind at all."

Moreover, the car she bought was entirely her own purchase—none of the eight billion had been touched.

Elder Qiao shook his head in fury. "You really have no sense of propriety. Just because someone lent you eight billion, you think they’re treating you generously, and now you’re pushing your luck?"

"Grandfather, what you’re saying is quite accurate—there are plenty of people who push their luck. Everyone seems to want to meddle in my affairs—yes, they’re pushing their luck."

Elder Qiao realized she wouldn’t concede even a single sentence to him. Whatever he said, she had ten more responses waiting.

And he was completely powerless to counter her.

Elder Qiao decided not to continue arguing.

He sighed and said in a deep voice, "I won’t stoop to your level."

Qiao Rui laughed. This time, the old man wanted to educate her again, but she wouldn’t allow it.

When she didn’t want to yield, she embraced her defiance without reservation.

"Follow me!" Elder Qiao instructed the housekeeper, "Unless I’ve given orders, no one else is to disturb us."

"Understood!" The housekeeper nodded immediately. "Don’t worry, sir. I’ll guard the door."

Qiao Rui glanced at Gai Yin and nodded slightly before following Elder Qiao into the house.

Gai Yin waited outside. She had heard every word the Young Master had said. The way Qiao Rui left Elder Qiao speechless had been thoroughly entertaining.

The Young Master was still as sharp-tongued as ever, but it was satisfying to see.

What right did Elder Qiao have to lecture the Young Master?

He had abandoned her in the countryside for so many years—he was unqualified to discipline her.

Inside the house.

Elder Qiao walked ahead, with Qiao Rui closely following behind.

The old man didn’t sit down on the couch but headed directly for the stairs, moving toward the second floor.

Qiao Rui followed him up.

At the door to the study, Elder Qiao opened the door and said to Qiao Rui, "Come in. Lock the door behind you."

"Okay." Qiao Rui shut the door.

Inside, Elder Qiao stood with his back to Qiao Rui, walking toward the safe as if he were inputting a password.

Qiao Rui glanced over and confirmed he was indeed entering a password.

She patiently waited.

The old man turned to look at her, seemingly checking whether she was trying to sneak a peek.

Qiao Rui met his gaze and laughed out loud. "I have no interest in the password to your safe. I just want to know where my brother is!"

Elder Qiao glanced at her again and pulled out a yellowed paper packet from the safe.

Qiao Rui froze for a moment.

The old man didn’t close the safe but proceeded to take out a photo album and walked over to the desk.

He said to Qiao Rui, "Bring a chair over and sit down."

Qiao Rui immediately moved a chair, walking over to sit down across from the old man.

The old man opened the yellowed packet, revealing a stack of aged photographs, and handed them all to Qiao Rui.

Qiao Rui glanced at them and her eyes widened.

The old man’s face was filled with sorrow.

Qiao Rui realized the photos weren’t ordinary pictures—every single one was a crime scene photo.

They depicted a dead body.

It was the scene of a murder.

A boy, perhaps five or six years old, had been tied up, with his fingernails missing. His face was unrecognizable, his entire body covered in filth, as though he had been trapped in some mud pit.

He was lying on the ground, his face turned away, but even a quick glance was enough to feel the horror.

Qiao Rui looked at the first photo, then the second.

This one showed a close-up of the boy’s face—his entire face mutilated, his eyes sunken, clogged with debris, and severely decomposed.

His head seemed to have a deep dent, as though struck by a blunt object, and the wound was also filled with filth.

The sight left Qiao Rui feeling both nauseated and sorrowful.

Next was a photo of a septic tank.

Yes, it was clearly a septic tank. Beneath the open manhole of the sewer was a pool of sludge.

One could feel it—it was undoubtedly a septic tank. There was a pair of shoes tossed to the side, stained with grime.

Then came a photo of a hammer.

Altogether, the photos documented an entire crime scene.

From these, it was possible to piece together the story of the boy being struck with a hammer, tied up, and thrown into the sewer, ultimately being flushed into the septic tank. Perhaps he hadn’t died immediately and struggled inside, clawing his own nails off, but in the end, he couldn’t escape.

Qiao Rui raised her head to look at Elder Qiao and saw an expression of deep sorrow on the old man’s face.

His eyes were fixed on the photographs she had just seen, showing a level of heartbreak that Qiao Rui had never witnessed before.

Elder Qiao’s display of such emotion left Qiao Rui momentarily stunned.

"Grandfather!" she finally spoke, only to find her voice hoarse.

Elder Qiao lifted his eyes, as if being startled awake from his sorrow and forcibly dragged back into reality.

His gaze met Qiao Rui’s, his eyes filled with helplessness and grief, tinged with resignation and a reluctance to dwell on the past.

"Grandfather." Qiao Rui spoke again. "Who is this?"

Elder Qiao suddenly closed his eyes, his whole demeanor seeming to age decades in an instant. "They all say it’s your brother."

"They all say?" Qiao Rui froze for a moment, abruptly standing up and shaking her head. "No, this is absolutely not my brother."

All her hopes were pinned on finding her brother. She had worked so hard, for so many years.

Only heaven knew how much effort and perseverance she had put into finding him.

But now, Elder Qiao was showing her these photographs, trying to resolve her search with these crime scene images. She would never accept it.

"I don’t believe it either," the old man said. "If you can find my only grandson, everything in the Qiao Family will be yours and your brother’s."

Qiao Rui frowned. "Who wants your mess of a legacy?"

Elder Qiao chuckled bitterly, "Ah, you’re a rich lady now. You don’t think much of the Qiao Family anymore. But if your brother is alive, everything here belongs to him, and no one can take it away. He is my only grandson—the only one to carry on the male heir bloodline."

Qiao Rui furrowed her brows again and looked back at the photographs. Though she felt sorrow and pity for the boy’s awful fate, the pain wasn’t the kind of anguish one feels for a lost loved one.

She didn’t believe this was her brother; it couldn’t be.

"Tell me—what exactly happened here?" Qiao Rui demanded in a low voice.