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墨書 Inktalez
I slowly exhaled, "The Song Family is about to face great calamity."
"Great calamity?" Song Qingyao scoffed, casually walking up to me with his hands in his pockets, a hint of provocation in his demeanor. "You? A country bumpkin, and you think you can predict the future? I think you've lost your mind trying to get attention!"
I looked up at him, my gaze calm and unwavering. "Your brow is dark, and there's a sinister aura between your eyebrows. You might soon encounter a disaster involving blood." I paused for a moment, letting my eyes linger on his face before adding, "Moreover, this malevolent energy does not come from the outside; it originates from within you. Be careful—trouble often arises from careless words."
Song Qingyao's expression changed slightly. He instinctively touched his brow, a flicker of panic crossing his eyes before he feigned composure. "Nonsense! Stop pretending to be some kind of oracle!"
He raised his voice, attempting to mask his inner unease.
The busy servants in the living room paused their work, curiously glancing our way.
A faint smile curled at the corners of my lips as I revealed a barely perceptible cold smirk. "Whether it's nonsense or not, you know in your heart. There’s a small mole above your left eyebrow, near the area associated with wealth—it's a typical sign of financial loss. The land you recently invested in is likely going to go down the drain, isn't it?"
Song Qingyao's face paled instantly. His eyes widened as he pointed at me, his finger trembling slightly. "Y-You... how do you know?" Only he and a few trusted associates were aware of his investment failure. How could this girl from the countryside know? Could she really be able to tell fortunes?
The surrounding servants began to whisper among themselves, their gazes toward Song Qingyao now filled with curiosity and skepticism.
Seeing this, Song Qingmo quickly approached Father Song and Mother Song, speaking softly, "Dad, Mom, Miao Miao just returned and might not be used to things yet; she can be a bit... indiscreet with her words. Please don't take it to heart." She shot me a furtive glare as she spoke.
Mother Song sighed and patted Song Qingmo's hand. "Qingmo, you're always so understanding." She turned her gaze toward me, her tone carrying a hint of reproach. "Miao Miao, Qingyao is your brother; how can you speak to him like that?"
I looked at mother Song, a cold smile creeping onto my lips. The mother and daughter were truly in sync, their duet perfectly coordinated.
I took my phone out of my pocket and played a recording—evidence of Song Qingmo instructing others to frame me.
"Frame you? What evidence do you have?" Song Qingmo's voice came from the phone, laced with arrogance.
"Evidence? You'll see it soon enough," I replied.
As the recording ended, the living room fell silent.
Father Song and mother Song's faces turned pale, their expressions filled with shock and disappointment as they looked at Song Qingmo.
Song Qingmo's face went white, her lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.
The servants were equally stunned, their jaws nearly dropping in disbelief. They never expected that the see Song Qingmo ly gentle and kind Second Miss could do something like this.
I put my phone back in my pocket and scanned the room, finally resting my gaze on Song Qingmo. " Song Qingmo, do you still think I'm talking nonsense?"
Song Qingmo bit her lip, her eyes reddening, but she was too weak to refute me.
She looked to mother Song for help, only to find mother Song gazing back at her with disappointment etched on her face.
I turned and walked to the window, staring out at the overcast sky, feeling not a single ripple of emotion within me.
The Song Family Crisis has only just begun.
I pulled back the curtains, allowing sunlight to flood in and dispel the gloom in the room. Turning to face the Song Family, I said, "The Song Family Crisis is more serious than you can imagine. If you don't find a way to resolve it, the consequences will be dire." With that, I left the living room.
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