1884 He's your son, right?

1884 He's your son, right?

"You ... You're talking nonsense. Your F * cking daughter is the bastard that can be ridden by tens of thousands of people. He's my son. He's Murong Mian ..." Madam Murong scolded.

Mrs. Jones glanced at Murong Mian, who was not involved in the matter, and sneered,""Ha ... Do you really think I'm an idiot? If he is Murong Mian, then what did you bury in the Murong family's ancestral grave a year ago? was it a stray dog?"

As she spoke, she stood up and took out a can of something from a cardboard box. She placed it on the table with a clang."Look at this. I had someone dig it out. Tell me, what's in this small jar?"

When Madam Murong saw this, she immediately started to struggle.

It was a bone ash box. She had bought the White ceramic bone ash box and put the ashes in it. It was her son, Landy.

Madam Murong was struggling in the glass box. Her legs were kicking against the hard glass wall. Her eyes were red and her face was filled with hatred that had been ignited by anger. She let out a suppressed roar from her throat, but she gritted her teeth and did not say anything.

Mrs. Jones opened the lid of the box and picked up a handful of ashes. Sure enough, her action made Mrs. Murong even angrier. She had no strength left, but now she kicked the glass box and broke the frame. Her hands were tied up with hemp rope, but she didn't feel the pain even when the rope cut through her skin.

Madam Jones laughed. Her facial features were twisted. She looked at Madam Murong with a sick joy on her face."Why are you so angry? didn't you say that your son didn't die? Then why are you so angry, or ... Do you know what's inside?"

Madam Murong's teeth had bitten through her lips. Her eyes were so red that it seemed as if blood was about to drip out. She stared at the jar and the sound coming from her throat was like the final cry of a dying prey.

As Murong Mian listened, she clenched her fists in her pockets, but her face remained expressionless.

His indifference was particularly abrupt in the dark and damp basement.

The dim yellow light above his head fell on him, casting a black silhouette on the top. His entire person was like a tree that did not move at all. It was as if no matter what the other party did, it would not affect him.

Mrs. Jones laughed. She suddenly grabbed a handful of ashes and scattered them.

The powder-like ashes scattered in the air, turning into dust that drifted in the air for a while before finally falling to the ground.

Madam Murong could not help but let out a heart-wrenching scream,""B * tch, I'm going to kill you, I'm going to kill you ..."

Mrs. Jones laughed madly."You never thought that you would end up like this. You can be angry, you can scream, you can do whatever you want, but now you can only be with snakes and rats. You want to save your son's ashes, you want to kill me, then you have to live first. Go and beg your bastard son for help."

Mrs. Jones knew that it would be very difficult to make a move on Murong Mian. This man's heart was extraordinarily cruel.

Moreover, she could not control what he was thinking, so she could only start from Madam Murong.

Obviously, the results were good. She had someone dig out the ash box that Madam Murong had secretly buried in the Murong family's ancestral grave. The box contained her own son, Murong Mian.