In the corridor, a sudden silence fell, as three generations stood frozen in place, unable to absorb the unexpected bad news.
After a long while, Li Yuan finally turned his head, looking at his father in front of him with hatred, "She was your wife who shared both joy and hardship, through decades of trials and tribulations, where exactly have you placed her? You didn't even know she was ill!"
The last sentence, filled with endless anger from the depths of his heart, Li Yuan roared out, his shouting deafening, clearly echoing in the silent corridor.
Li Xiangyang was so defeated he couldn't utter a single word.
He only knew that his wife had been feeling dizzy recently, sometimes having fevers and colds, but every time he asked her, she always said it was anemia, a cold, and considering the busy times after the old man's passing and the need to guard against Li Xiangyuan and his son's ambitions, he simply paid no mind, nor had any time to spare.
