Mr. Bigshot Is Obsessed with His Hidden-Marriage Wife
Chapter 42: Isn’t this their conspiracy?

Chapter 42: Chapter 42: Isn’t this their conspiracy?

The man was still moving his body passionately to the rhythm when suddenly someone sat down beside him.

He was somewhat dizzy from drinking and saw that it was a handsome young man, so he picked up a glass and placed it in front of him, "Want to drink with uncle?"

Lin Yihang glanced at the bottle of alcohol he was holding—it was the cheapest one the bar offered.

His daughter had hooked a wealthy man, and yet his father was drinking such cheap alcohol?

Moreover, judging from his look, he seemed in desperate need of female company—the "wealthy man" didn’t seem so generous after all.

"I’ll buy you a drink," Lin Yihang said, lifting his inscrutable eyes, "but let’s go somewhere else."

Hearing someone was offering him a drink, Ye Jian’an’s eyes lit up immediately.

He wasn’t afraid of the other party harming him—what would anyone want from an old, penniless man like him?

The two went to a modest tavern where Lin Yihang ordered several bottles of white liquor.

Ye Jian’an drank one cup after another, occasionally looking up at the person opposite him, "Young man, why are you buying me drinks out of the blue? We don’t know each other, do we?"

"Do you really not recognize me?" Lin Yihang’s eyes were cold and sharp.

Ye Jian’an scoffed, "Young man, stop joking. Looking at your attire, you aren’t an ordinary person. That watch you’re wearing is worth millions, isn’t it? How could I possibly know someone as noble as you?"

Lin Yihang’s right hand, resting at his side, suddenly tensed, and a hint of murderous intent exuded from him.

Ye Jian’an, this face, even after ten years, still haunted his dreams like a nightmare.

His parents had knelt before him, humbly begging him to spare their son. He had looked down on them, as if he were a god who could decide their fates.

He stretched out five fingers, "Five hundred thousand."

Five hundred thousand, enough to ruin them.

He had remembered this face for ten years, yet he casually said they did not know each other.

Yes, how could he remember the face of a victim, considering the number of victims he had?

He and his daughter had collaborated, certainly making a fortune over those years.

"Yes, we don’t know each other. You look a lot like an old acquaintance of mine." Lin Yihang refilled Ye Jian’an’s cup, "I used to call him uncle."

"Given your age, you’re about the same as my daughter. You can call me uncle too."

"You have a daughter?" Lin Yihang asked tentatively.

"I have a son and a daughter. My daughter is outstanding; she works as a doctor in the hospital. Many wealthy people go to her for treatment." Ye Jian’an proudly sipped his liquor. "Those wealthy people, no matter how rich, still have to beg when they fall ill."

As Ye Jian’an spoke, he took out his wallet from his pocket. Within the wallet’s compartment was a photo, "Look, this is my daughter and son."

Lin Yihang stared intently at the photo, his face turning dark as ink. The photo was from ten years ago, with Ye Yan wearing her high school uniform, her face showing the naiveté of a young girl.

"This photo is quite exquisite; your family must have been well off back then. Such a photo must have cost quite a bit, right?" Lin Yihang hoped to lead Ye Jian’an into revealing the truth about the past doing, even if he couldn’t get him sent to prison, he still wanted everyone to know the despicable nature of the Ye family.

Ye Jian’an’s face was flushed with drink, and his speech slightly slurred. The man in front of him was clearly the youth he had once framed, yet he remained oblivious.

"Young man, let me tell you something, but don’t spread it around." Ye Jian’an leaned in, a hint of mystery in his tone, while the smell of alcohol was overpowering, "When I was young, I was handsome and wealthy. Yes, just as handsome as you."

Lin Yihang didn’t doubt his words.

Now disheveled and unkempt, Ye Jian’an still showed a hint of his superior facial features. When he was young, he must have been a real looker, which explained why he had such beautiful children.

"Being handsome and wealthy, beautiful women were always vying to go home with me. Unfortunately, that didn’t last, and my wife left me too." Ye Jian’an took a swig of spirits, his expression gloomy, seemingly reminiscing about his moments of glory.

Lin Yihang, intentionally or unintentionally, brought up the photograph: "So, when this photo was taken, you had become affluent again?"

Ye Jian’an glanced around. By this time, the small tavern was empty, or perhaps Lin Yihang had made the people here disappear.

Gradually letting his guard down, he lowered his voice and said, "At that time, I came into some money, five hundred thousand."

Lin Yihang’s pupils shrank suddenly, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

Five hundred thousand—a figure like a sword continuously piercing his heart, causing him intermittent pain.

"My daughter had a classmate who liked her. He often used the pretense of swapping homework to write ambiguous confession poems. He thought I couldn’t understand them? Please, everyone has been young once." Ye Jian’an’s disdain made Lin Yihang boil with rage, narrowly managing to hold himself back from lashing out then and there.

The affection of youth was so naive and beautiful, yet insignificant in his eyes.

"Did your daughter like him?"

"She did." Ye Jian’an took a sip of liquor, hiccuped, and his eyes grew misty, "She would sit in her room holding those poems he wrote, smiling like an idiot. I saw everything clearly."

This answer was clearly beyond Lin Yihang’s expectations.

He felt his heart racing, so fast that it seemed ready to burst out of his chest.

"These kids don’t know what love is. That boy clearly had no good intentions; he just wanted to take advantage of her."

Lin Yihang remained silent, his gaze intense and aggressive, but unfortunately, Ye Jian’an was too drunk to notice.

"I did some digging; that boy’s family owns a small restaurant, they have some money."

The words ’small restaurant’ seemed to agitate Lin Yihang further. Ye Jian’an had perhaps forgotten how he had once acted like a shrew at the restaurant’s doorstep, protesting with signs and throwing dog’s blood, effectively scaring away any potential diners.

"What exactly did you do?" Lin Yihang cut through the drunken rambling, getting straight to the point.

Ye Jian’an blinked, "That boy once asked my daughter to meet him at the gym, surely to confess his feelings. My daughter, fearing I would find out, kept it hidden, but little did she know, I had been watching her all along. On the day of their date, I secretly followed with some men and just as they were getting close, I burst out shouting, ’Catch the molester!’ You should’ve seen his face; he was so pale with fright that he couldn’t even run."

Lin Yihang abruptly stood up, the bottles on the table vibrating violently.

How could he forget, how dare he forget that day?

He was surrounded by so many teachers and students, Ye Jian’an pointing at him and accusing him of being a molester, trying to take advantage of his daughter.

But no, something wasn’t right—why did Ye Jian’an keep saying that Ye Yan had been seeing him behind his back?

Could this have been a trap, a meticulously planned scheme by both father and daughter to ensnare him?