Shen Qingye felt ashamed to face Yun Lih, struggling to let go of the foolish acts he had committed.
Seeing this, Song Liao relaxed his spirit slightly, looking apologetically at Li Qiao, "Zai Zai, there are still cases that need my attention back at headquarters, so..."
Li Qiao remained silent, her eyes gloomy as they fixed on the ground, lost in thought.
Song Liao thought she was upset and was about to make up some excuses when Xia Siyu shot him a sharp look, and he closed his mouth.
The bright light in the living room laid bare the expressions of everyone present.
Xia Siyu studied Li Qiao’s countenance closely, her fingertips curling uneasily. It was rare to see such a deep, almost solemn expression on Xiao Qi Zai’s face.
Li Qiao seemed lost in thought but couldn’t untangle her mind.
Perhaps the chaos of the fireworks festival had made her overlook something important.
Xiao Yehui had brought everyone to the British Imperial; it couldn’t possibly be just for attending a banquet.
If it was only to deal with her and Shang Yu, why invite the other four?
Li Qiao’s brows knit tighter. This didn’t seem like Xiao Yehui’s style.
What was he waiting for?
Perhaps Li Qiao had been silent for too long, so Xia Siyu cautiously moved closer, gently shaking her arm, "What’s wrong? Tell sister?"
Li Qiao snapped back to reality, her eyes calm in the light of the lamps, "It’s nothing, just a bit sleepy..."
An anxious Xia Siyu thought: Are you kidding me?!
Li Qiao didn’t continue on the topic, and within a few short minutes, she arranged for Luoyu and the others to take them back to their rooms to rest.
The time reached eleven o’clock at night, and Yun Lih emptied his glass at the small bar area on the second floor.
Li Qiao, with one hand on her forehead, studied him without blinking.
At that moment, Shang Yu pushed a glass of milk toward Li Qiao, his voice rich with concern: "Finish it and go to sleep."
Yun Lih’s one leg tapped the ground, the effect of the alcohol making his cheeks faintly flushed, ridding him of his usual sickly look.
"All I know is this much, not very specific, but I guess it should be useful."
Li Qiao held the milk glass with one hand, taking a small sip, "Mm, it’s useful."
Years ago, the Charlman Family had dismissed all their servants from the manor and hired new ones, a secret Yun Lih learned from an old servant at the stables.
Furthermore, Xiao Hongdao’s first wife, Xiao Yehui’s mother, died under mysterious circumstances, said to have passed away suddenly with no chance for condolences, and was hastily buried the next day.
The Charlman Manor had stood for a long time, and there were countless old servants; digging up such ancient gossip was easy for Yun Lih.
As for the relationship between the brothers Xiao Yehui and Xiao Yeyan, it could probably be described as "amicable on the surface but not at heart."
It was a contradictory display — though they appeared to loathe each other, they would cooperate closely when facing the outside world.
Perhaps, for these noble families of the British Imperial, there was a deeply ingrained sense of honor tied to their status.
They could quarrel amongst themselves, but would not let outsiders detect it.
Yun Lih grabbed a bottle of foreign alcohol and poured himself half a glass, lifting his eyes to look at Li Qiao with a husky voice: "About Xiao Yehui and Madam Xiao..."
He paused for half a second, seeing that Shang Yu showed no unusual reaction, and then continued: "Cough, I’ve never heard Xiao Yehui call her mother, but Xiao Yeyan doesn’t seem to hold back at all, their relationship appears genuinely deep.
As for their youngest daughter, I’ve seen her only once during the more than a month I spent at the manor, well-protected, and her relationship with Xiao Yehui seems even closer."
Having finished half a glass of milk, Li Qiao had fully digested the news Yun Lih brought.
The children of the Charlman Family were few, but their relations among one another were quite subtle.
Xiao Yehui, the man with the demeanor of refined jade, could easily cause one’s guard to drop.
His relationship with Madam Xiao was distant, but he was strangely affectionate with her youngest daughter.
Li Qiao narrowed her eyes, about to speak, when Shang Yu had already drained his glass and turned to give Yun Lih an evicting glare, "Your room is on the third floor."
Yun Lih’s mind clear as a mirror, smoothed his long fringe and stood up, pushing back the tall chair; he strode towards the staircase.
And here was the leader of the International Club, his heart not so broad after all.
Li Qiao looked at Shang Yu, quiet for a few seconds before raising an eyebrow, "Under what circumstances would someone suddenly replace all the servants?"