Standing among the group of elders, the forlorn Yan Xiaye looked particularly striking.
The black outfit outlined her graceful figure, making some men glance at her unconsciously, but due to the present occasion, they didn't dare to do anything disgusting.
However, while those lecherous men dared not act rashly, the people who had been hoping for Yan Xiaye to fight for inheritance and share the benefits couldn't sit still, one by one pretending to offer condolences to her.
"Miss Yan, none of us wanted such a thing to happen, but the deceased is gone, and those of us who remain have to strive for tomorrow. Don't you agree?"
Pretending not to hear the implication in his words, Yan Xiaye coldly lowered her eyes and replied indifferently.
The man frowned, suspecting that Yan Xiaye was too grief-stricken to care about the power that was within her reach.
