Chapter 695: The Devil at the Funeral

Duan Xiaobin's death did not cause much public ripple in Wu Zhou; it was cleverly classified as a "crime committed while on the run" stemming from a "robbery-murder case".

But in certain specific circles, this is undoubtedly a heavy warning bell, striking fear into people's hearts.

In Wu Zhou, in Li Zhenyang's ancient and imposing study.

Li Hengbo stood with hands at his sides, respectful posture, even carrying a touch of just‑right apprehension and relief. Before him, Li Zhenyang, wearing a Chinese‑style jacket, slowly brewed tea, not lifting his eyelids.

"Uncle Li." Li Hengbo's voice low, carrying the rigor of reporting work: "That kid from the Duan family… met with an accident."

Li Zhenyang's hand paused slightly as he poured hot water into the tea sea, producing a faint sound.

He still didn't raise his head, merely uttering a soft "en" with a drawn‑out tail, giving no hint of emotion.

"That kid was summoned for questioning by two investigators from Jingcheng." Li Hengbo spoke firmly: "But you can rest easy— the person has been dealt with, the loose ends are clean, and absolutely no one will be implicated. The two who did the job were hired from abroad; after finishing, they were sent away and will never return."

He was doing this to show off, and also to display his capability and "reliability".

Only then did Li Zhenyang slowly lift his head; his eyes, which had seen the world, swept sharply over Li Hengbo, as if trying to pierce his flesh and see his true thoughts.

"Hengbo." Li Zhenyang lifted the small teacup, took a sip, his tone flat yet carrying an invisible pressure: "When doing things, you must know your limits. Cross a line, and there's no turning back."

"I understand, Uncle Li!" Li Hengbo immediately bowed, his tone utterly sincere: "I too was forced. Lin Dongfan's gang are like mad dogs, biting and not letting go; if Duan Xiaobin were to speak, the consequences would be unthinkable. I did this to eliminate future trouble, not to cause you trouble."

He framed his motive as "self‑defense" and "considering Li Zhenyang's interests", placing himself in a loyal position.

Li Zhenyang neither affirmed nor denied, merely sipping his tea slowly before saying softly: "Since you've done it, clean up your tracks—I don't want to hear any unwelcome rumors."

"Rest assured! Absolutely clean!"

Li Hengbo felt a stone drop in his heart and hurriedly gave his assurance. He knew Li Zhenyang's tacit approval of his actions—or, in the current situation, Li Zhenyang also needed him as a "sharp blade" to clear obstacles.

Leaving the Li family residence, Li Hengbo got into the car; his respectful, meek expression vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, triumphant cruelty.

He took out his phone and dialed a number:

"Make the arrangements, prepare a wreath—I'm going to 'mourn' that short‑lived ghost of the Duan family."

……

In the modest memorial hall set up by the Duan family, the atmosphere was mournful and oppressive.

Duan Xiaobin's portrait hung in the centre; the young man's smile in the photo was still immature. Duan's mother sobbed so hard she nearly fainted, held up by several relatives, her whole person seeming to have had her soul drained.

To see a white‑haired person send off a black‑haired one, especially by such a violent death, this blow could crush any mother.

Just then, the memorial hall was filled with cries of grief.

An uninvited guest appeared at the door, leaning on a golden cane.

Li Hengbo had arrived.

He wore a black suit, his face bearing a pained expression, bodyguards behind him, and he held a large, expensive wreath.

His appearance caused the weeping in the memorial hall to pause for a moment; everyone stared at him with shock, fear, then turning to anger.

"You… what are you doing here?! Get out!"

A relative of the Duan family recognized Li Hengbo and shouted angrily.

Duan Xinhua's disappearance had long made the Duan family suspect Li Hengbo's involvement; now Duan Xiaobin had died violently, yet Li Hengbo dared to show up at their door?

Duan's mother lifted her head; the moment her murky tear-filled eyes met Li Hengbo, she burst out with heart‑rending hatred: "Li Hengbo! It's you! You killed my son! You murderer! Get out! Get out!"

She struggled to lunge at him, but relatives held her back tightly.

Facing the crowd's angry glares and rebukes, Li Hengbo's pained expression did not change in the slightest; instead, it carried a lofty pity.

He signaled the bodyguards to place the wreath at the door, then, leaning on his cane, he walked forward two steps, his gaze falling on Duan's mother.

"Madam Duan." Li Hengbo's voice was not loud, yet it reached everyone clearly, carrying a cold "consolation": "Grieve and move on. That boy Xiaobin… what a pity… so young, how could he not see sense and provoke those he shouldn't? The world is unsettled; some paths, once taken the wrong way, cannot be retraced."

These words sounded like consolation, but were in fact naked threats and intimidation!

He implied that Duan Xiaobin's death was because he "provoked those he shouldn't have", warning the other Duan family members not to "take the wrong path" again!

"You… you beast…"

Duan's mother trembled with rage, pointing at Li Hengbo, but overcome by extreme anger and sorrow she could not utter a word.

Li Hengbo leaned forward slightly, drawing closer.

In a voice only those nearby could hear, he whispered coldly: "Madam Duan, the dead cannot return to life. The living must still live well, you agree? But whatever you do, don't… do foolish things again. Some matters, if probed deeply, benefit no one."

This was already an open death threat!

Inside the memorial hall, the Duan family's relatives were both shocked and angry, yet cowed by Li Hengbo's intimidation, they dared to be angry but not speak, the atmosphere reaching a point of extreme repression.

Just as Li Hengbo thought he had completely subdued the scene and was preparing to withdraw with victory, an icy, familiar voice, like a sword breaking through clouds, came from the memorial hall's entrance:

"Manager Li really is 'thoughtful', coming to mourn while still threatening the deceased's family—your 'goodwill' is such that even King Yama wouldn't dare accept it."

Everyone turned toward the sound.

Only then did they see Lin Dongfan, who had somehow arrived, standing there straight as a pine, his face calm as water, his eyes sharp as blades, fixed directly on Li Hengbo!

He brought few people—only Lao Ba silently following behind—but that invisible aura instantly shattered the terror Li Hengbo had cultivated!

Lin Dongfan stepped into the memorial hall step by step.

First he bowed three times solemnly before Duan Xiaobin's portrait, then went to the trembling Duan's mother, who seemed to have found her mainstay, and gently supported her nearly limp body.

He lifted his head, locking eyes with Li Hengbo, whose complexion had instantly turned awful; his voice was not loud, yet it carried an undeniable force that echoed in the silent memorial hall:

"Madam Duan, don't be afraid—'under this bright heaven and earth, not even some demons and monsters can shroud everything in darkness! Xiaobin's grievance will naturally be avenged by someone. Those who owe a debt will not escape!"

His words were like a divine stabilizing needle, steadying the Duan family's hearts on the verge of collapse, and like a resounding war drum, they announced a full‑scale counteroffensive against Li Hengbo—now officially underway!

Within the memorial hall, justice and evil, at this moment, formed the sharpest confrontation!

The air seemed to ignite; a great battle was about to erupt!