Chapter 727: Domineering and Protective of His Wife

After a long time, the bedroom door slowly opened, and Zang Guoming walked out of Chu Tiannan's room with heavy steps.

He raised his hand and rubbed his cheek vigorously, trying to smooth out the traces of grief just left, but his red and swollen eyes, like silent testimony, revealed his inner sorrow.

Seeing this, Wang Yuyan opened her lips slightly and was about to say something to comfort him, but when the words came to her lips she didn't know where to start.

She gave him a concerned look, which eventually turned into a silent sigh.

Lin Lang walked forward, his expression solemn, and said in a calm tone: "Brother Ming, let me take you to visit Brother Nan's study."

Zang Guoming's voice rolled in his throat, and he uttered a word with difficulty: "Okay."

Afterwards, he and Wang Yuyan followed Lin Lang and slowly walked towards Chu Tiannan's study.

Lin Lang pushed open the door of the study, and a rich scent of books mixed with the breath of time wafted towards him.

The mahogany bookshelves extend from the floor to the ceiling, neatly arranged and filled with all kinds of books.

The vast majority of books revolve around the fields of business and philosophy, ranging from Adam Smith's "The Wealth of Nations" to Hegel's "Phenomenology of Spirit", from modern corporate management case collections to classic works on game theory.

Some of the covers of these books are brand new, while others have slightly curled corners due to frequent reading. It is not difficult to see that Chu Tiannan's love and exploration of knowledge has never stopped.

In the center of the study, there is a huge rosewood desk, with pens, ink, paper and inkstone neatly placed on the table.

In a Duan inkstone, the ink was glowing faintly, and a sheep-hair brush with a gold-inlaid handle was casually placed on the pen holder, as if its owner had just put it down.

A completed calligraphy work came into view. On the rice paper, the brush strokes were vigorous and powerful, and the ink colors were just the right amount of light and dark. It turned out to be an acrostic poem "Ming".

Hidden in the sea of ​​art,

The national style is charming and natural.

Bright eyes are classics in every play.

Stars shine brightly on the screen

After looking at it, Zang Guoming asked, "Is this Anan's handwriting?"

Lin Lang responded: "Brother Nan, as the heir of the Chu Group, has been proficient in music, chess, calligraphy and painting since he was a child. Whenever he has time, he likes to write poems."

Wang Yuyan praised: "I didn't expect his calligraphy skills to be so high, and he is so talented and can write poetry."

Zang Guoming subconsciously walked closer to the desk, his eyes attracted by the calligraphy works.

When he recognized the poem word by word and realized that it was an acrostic poem with his own name hidden in the verses, his heart trembled violently and his blood seemed to freeze in an instant.

The past years he spent with Chu Tiannan flooded into his mind like a tide. His eyes were filled with tears again and his vision became blurred.

Zang Guoming stretched out his hand tremblingly, and his fingertips gently touched the ink on the rice paper, as if touching the warmth that Chu Tiannan once had.

At this moment, Zang Guoming was immersed in this friendship that transcended life and death, and was unable to extricate himself for a long time.

Wang Yuyan and Lin Lang stood aside, watching the scene quietly. No one spoke, for fear of breaking the atmosphere full of sadness and warmth.

It was not until a teardrop fell on the calligraphy and painting that Zang Guoming regained consciousness. He wiped his tears in panic and asked tentatively, "Alang, can you ask Miss Chu for me if this calligraphy and painting by Anan can be given to me for my collection?"

Lin Lang replied: "You don't need to ask Yiren, I can decide to give you this calligraphy and painting by Brother Nan."

After hearing this, Zang Guoming forced a smile towards Lin Lang: "Thank you, Alang!"

"You're welcome, Brother Ming."

"I will instruct the servants of the Chu residence to send this painting by Brother Nan to be framed in a moment. After it is framed, I will send someone to deliver it to your hotel."

Zang Guoming took a deep breath and tried to calm down: "Okay, then I'll trouble you, Alang."

Then, Lin Lang looked at Wang Yuyan and said, "Sister Yan, let Brother Ming stay in Brother Nan's study alone for a while. I will take you on a simple tour of the Chu residence and take a look around."

"Okay." Wang Yuyan nodded slightly, and left the study with Lin Lang, closing the door gently.

Outside the study window, the drizzle was still falling, and the raindrops rhythmically hit the glass, interweaving with the quiet atmosphere in the study, creating a sad but not sorrowful mood, as if humming a elegy for the deceased.

The door closed quietly, and Zang Guoming's gaze slowly moved away from the closed door and fell back on the painting that was filled with deep affection.

Zang Guoming's fingertips stroked the words on the rice paper again. Every stroke seemed to carry precious fragments of his past time with Chu Tiannan. Memories suddenly surged like a tide, completely drowning him.

Zang Guoming was very sad. He visited Chu Tiannan's study with tears in his eyes. His fingers ran over the books on the bookshelf one by one, as if touching Chu Tiannan's warmth.

Time passed silently, and Zang Guoming was immersed in the vortex of memories, unable to extricate himself.

After an unknown amount of time, a gentle knock on the door broke the silence.

Zang Guoming hastily wiped away the remaining tears from the corners of his eyes, adjusted his mood, and said, "Please come in."

The door slowly opened, and Lin Lang said, "I'm sorry, Brother Ming, I have a funeral to attend, so I'll leave first. I've already told the housekeeper of the Chu residence to send a car to take you back to the hotel when you and Sister Yan leave."

After hearing this, Zang Guoming said, "Okay, Alang, go do what you have to do. You don't have to stay at the Chu residence with me. I will leave with Ayan in a little while."

Lin Lang said, "Brother Ming, you can feel like you are at home in the Chu Residence. You don't have to feel restrained. It doesn't matter how long you stay. I'll be leaving now."

"Goodbye, Alang. Please drive safely on rainy days."

"Okay, bye." Lin Lang closed the study door again, quickly left the Chu residence, and drove to the memorial service for Zhao's father and son.

Lin Lang stepped on the accelerator, and the car sped towards the Pudong Funeral Home in Haikou City like an arrow.

In the rain, the outline of the city blurred on the car window, as if it was also mourning for the funeral.

When Lin Lang arrived at the Pudong Funeral Home, a solemn yet undercurrent scene came into view.

In the square outside the farewell hall, the crowd was as dense as ants. The executives of Taicheng Group were wearing neat black suits with white flowers on their chests. They held black umbrellas with solemn expressions and stood in the rain with the cold wind caressing them.

The bodyguards of Taicheng Group stood around, busy maintaining order, and at the same time stood in two rows to support the Zhao family, which had a background in the underworld.

The funeral music slowly flowed out from the farewell hall like a stream of cold air, permeating every inch of the air and penetrating into Lin Lang's ears.

The people who came to pay their respects were of all kinds. In addition to Zhao Qiankun's business partners, many of them were dressed in suits and holding elegant white chrysanthemums in their hands. They greeted each other in low voices, and their words were full of regret for the death of Zhao's father and son.

There were also many gangsters, some wearing fancy shirts, some with exaggerated hairstyles, standing together in groups of three or five, exuding an unruly aura, making the whole scene seem like a mixed bag.

Lin Lang pushed open the car door and the rain, chilly as it was, blew in his face.

He straightened his collar and walked straight towards the farewell hall with steady steps.

Passing through the dense crowd, the noisy discussions in my ears became clearer.

Some people sighed and lamented the sudden passing of Zhao and his son, their words full of disbelief; others quietly speculated on the future direction of Taicheng Group, their eyes flashing with shrewd calculations that were difficult to conceal.

The Zhao family’s housekeeper had sharp eyes and spotted Lin Lang at a glance. He hurried forward, bent his waist like a shrimp, and greeted him respectfully: “Mr. Lin, you are finally here!”

Lin Lang asked with concern: "How is Lanshan now?"

Upon hearing this, the housekeeper sighed heavily and replied, "The eldest lady has been kneeling in front of the coffin, returning the gifts to the families of the people who came to pay their respects according to etiquette. She just knelt on the futon with an expressionless face and did not cry. It seems that she was just holding on."

"Mr. Lin, please go in and take a look at the young lady. Don't let her suppress her grief and hurt herself!"

Lin Lang thought, "It must be because I modified Zhao Lanshan's memory that she thought she was the adopted daughter of the Zhao family and no longer had any feelings for the Zhao father and son, so she was so cold that she couldn't cry."

After reading it, Lin Lang said, "Okay, tell the master of ceremonies to add a plug for me first. After I pay tribute to Uncle Zhao and Young Master Zhao, I will comfort Lan Shan."

"Okay, I'll arrange it right away." The housekeeper hurriedly did as he was told.

Soon, the MC was heard holding the microphone and saying, "Dear guests, at this moment, we bid farewell to the deceased with heavy hearts."

"Here, the memorial service is still going on. Please invite the next mourner, Lin Lang, chairman of Penguin Internet, to step into the mourning hall to bid farewell to the deceased and express your condolences and respect."

When Lin Lang stepped into the farewell hall, a strong scent of sandalwood and burning candles hit him in the face.

The mourning hall was decorated in an extremely solemn manner, with white elegiac couplets hanging from the ceiling and portraits of Zhao's father and son hung high in the center. They had kind smiles in the photos and did not look like evil people, which formed a sharp contrast with the solemn atmosphere before them.

Lin Lang's gaze swept across the mourning hall and finally fell on Zhao Lanshan, who was kneeling on the cushion in front of the coffin.

Zhao Lanshan was dressed in mourning, and the plain white clothes made her face look as pale as paper.

The eyes of the two lovers met from afar. Lin Lang saw haggardness and fatigue in Zhao Lanshan's eyes, as well as a hint of love that was difficult to conceal.

Amid the host's sorrowful introductory words, Lin Lang walked slowly to the memorial tablet with a solemn expression. He first bowed deeply with steady and slow movements, and then presented an elegant white chrysanthemum.

At this moment, a gust of cold wind suddenly blew in from the door of the mourning hall and rushed straight towards the incense table. With a "puff" sound, it instantly blew out the burning candles in front of the coffins of Zhao father and son.

The candles on the incense table in the mourning hall were blown out by the cold wind. It seemed that the ghosts of Zhao's father and son appeared and were resisting Lin Lang's hypocritical worship.

Upon seeing this, the staff immediately rushed forward and relighted the candles, and the mourning hall finally returned to its previous solemnity.

Zhao Lanshan, who was kneeling in front of the coffin, witnessed this scene but did not think much about it. She just thought it was caused by the natural wind blowing in from the mourning hall.

Lin Lang symbolically approached the crystal coffin, his eyes lingering briefly on the appearance of the Zhao father and son, then he strode to Zhao Lanshan and slowly squatted down.

He stared at Zhao Lanshan, his eyes full of heartache, and whispered: "Lanshan, the dead cannot be resurrected. No matter how sad you are, your uncle and the young master will not come back. You must mourn."

"Yeah." Zhao Lanshan nodded in response, looking at Lin Lang with deep affection as he looked concerned.

Lin Lang reached out and gently touched Zhao Lanshan's shoulder, his voice full of worry: "You are pregnant now. If you kneel like this for a long time, I am really worried that you will have a miscarriage, which will be bad for the baby."

Zhao Lanshan frowned slightly, with an embarrassment on her face. She subconsciously glanced at the people around her who came to pay their respects, and said softly, "But, according to etiquette, as a relative of the deceased, I should kneel here to return the greeting. If I stand up, I'm afraid others will talk about it and accuse me of not knowing the rules."

Lin Lang helped Zhao Lanshan up domineeringly and said arrogantly: "Get up, don't care about other people's comments and accusations, my rules are the rules."

"For the rest of your life, you only live for me and the baby. You don't need to care about anyone else. Do you understand?"

"I understand." Zhao Lanshan's eyes instantly flushed, and tears welled up in her eyes, as if they might fall at any time.

Her legs had long been numb from kneeling, and at this moment she felt Lin Lang's dominance and strength.

Lin Lang's words revealed an irresistible majesty, which warmed Zhao Lanshan's heart and gave her the courage to face the comments and accusations of others.