Chapter 3 — The Day I Locked the Villa Door

Chu Tieu Man took Tran Hao's arm and offered drinks to each table. Every time they came to a table, the guests stood up and applauded.

“The bride is so beautiful!”

“The villa is truly luxurious!”

“Tieu Man is married well!”

Chu Tieu Man laughed so much that she couldn't close her mouth, each compliment made her chin raise a little higher. Go to the fourth table. A middle-aged man wearing a floral shirt holding a glass of wine, half drunk and half sober asked:

"Tieu Man, will this villa really be yours from now on? What about your ex-sister-in-law? Does she agree?"

The whole party table suddenly became quiet for a moment. But the smile on Chu Tieu Man's face did not change.

“Which sister-in-law?”

She smiled faintly.

“My brother is divorced.”

“When did you get divorced?”

“It's been a while.”

Chu Tieu Man waved his hand.

"She's just an ordinary woman. Married to my family for three years without any benefits, she takes care of this and that every day. My brother couldn't bear it anymore so he divorced."

When she said those words, her expression was light. It's like talking about an unrelated passerby.

“This house has nothing to do with her.”

“From beginning to end, it was my brother's money.”

The middle-aged man said "oh", nodded, raised his glass and did not ask any more questions. I stand behind the flower trellis. Doesn't show any emotions. But the left hand unconsciously touched the right wrist. There used to be a blue jade bracelet there. It was a gift my grandmother left me. After the divorce, I took it down and put it in my dressing table drawer. But now... That drawer is in the second floor master bedroom. The main bedroom has been turned into Chu Tieu Man's dressing room. I don't know if the bracelet is still there or not.

“I'll go upstairs and take a look.”

I told To Dao.

“Second floor.”

“I'll go with you.”

"No need."

I shook my head.

"You stay here and help me observe. If anything changes, text me."

To Dao hesitated for two seconds then nodded. I followed the stairs on the side of the backyard to the second floor. The hallway light has been changed to pink. The wall is covered with the words Joy cut from bright red paper. I walked to the front door of the master bedroom. The door opened wide. The makeup artists have already left. The room was extremely messy. The bed was littered with cosmetic bags, dryer cords, hair curlers and torn-up boxes of clothes. On the ground were scattered tissues, cotton swabs and a few broken pieces of blush. My bed sheet has been changed to a red set embroidered with dragons and phoenixes. My curtains were pulled down and thrown into the corner of the room. The lights around the makeup mirror are still on. I walked in front of the dressing table. Pull out the second compartment. Inside is empty. I opened the first compartment again, then the third. Still nothing. All my jewelry... The jade bracelet my grandmother left behind. Pair of pearl earrings. Gold necklace. All completely disappeared. I stood in front of empty drawers. After a long time, I slowly closed them. The finger stopped on the edge of the dressing table for two seconds. Then take out the phone, reopen the surveillance camera playback, and fast forward the search. Images rushed across the screen. Finally stopped at a point three days ago. In the video, Tien My Phuong is standing in front of this dressing table. She pulled out the drawer, took each piece of jewelry inside and put it in a red velvet bag. Every time she took an item, she held it up under the light staring, muttering something. The last green jade bracelet... She even tried to put it on her hand. Hesitate for a few seconds. Then take it down and put it in your pocket. Then take your bag and leave the room. I stopped the video at the exact moment Tien My Phuong closed the door. The finger stays on the screen for three seconds. Then take a screenshot. Save that video separately. Exit camera playback. Leave the master bedroom. Before going downstairs, I passed by the balcony door. The door was half open. I pushed the door open and walked out. My pots of mint are still in the corner. Of the three pots, two were overturned and soil was scattered. Mint leaves have drooped due to not being watered for a long time, and some leaves have turned yellow. There's only one pot of rosemary left that hasn't fallen over. It's big and not very beautiful. But still alive. I rebuilt the two fallen plant pots, used my hands to gather the spilled soil, picked up handfuls and put them back in the pots. Fingers covered in mud. I don't wipe. Just stand on the balcony and watch the bustling scene below. Chu Tieu Man and Tran Hao have finished serving drinks. Two people are standing in front of the flower wall, posing in all sorts of poses to take photos. Someone held up a selfie stick to take a video. A young girl even set up a livestream stand, filming and excitedly talking to the camera. I looked at that livestream frame. Then take out your phone. Send a message to a phone number.

"What platform is the livestream on? What is the account name?"

In less than a minute, the reply message came. A platform name. An account ID.