Peninsula: The young master is poor and doesn't want to date.

Chapter 75 Live Broadcast of the Execution

"time."

10:07 AM.

Ding Wulang typed a few keys on the laptop next to him.

"Less than thirty minutes have passed since he left the farewell hall. He must have run at least two red lights on the way."

"Are you ready for the live stream?"

"It can be turned on anytime. The signal is full. The backup wired connection is also working properly."

Ding Wulang took the cigarette out of his mouth and stubbed it out in the ashtray.

"The video delay is no more than one second."

Li Zheng nodded and turned to look at Li Yubin.

Let's take action.

"Leave the performance to me."

Lee Woo-bin opened the car door and got out, when Lee Jung-il suddenly called out to him.

"Thanks."

Lee Woo-bin paused for two seconds upon hearing those two words.

Then he smiled nonchalantly.

Call me brother.

"roll."

"Hahaha~"

Li Yubin got into the cargo box of the small truck next to him, and then the truck started. The driver was someone Ding Wulang had found, who was said to be very reliable.

In the cemetery's farewell hall, funeral music was still playing on a loop.

Li Chenghao has been missing for half an hour.

At first, no one noticed.

At a funeral, it's normal for the eldest son, Li Chenghao, to go to the restroom or greet late guests.

But remaining out of sight for half an hour is too long for someone who is presiding over a funeral.

Lee Jae-hyun sat in a wheelchair, expressionless.

He didn't ask where Li Chenghao had gone, nor did he send anyone to look for him.

He just sat there, staring at the empty coffin in front of him, as if waiting for something, or as if waiting for nothing at all.

Then a sound came from outside the door.

It wasn't funeral music. It wasn't the sound of the wind.

It's a drumbeat.

The deep, heart-pounding drumbeats, amplified by the subwoofer, made the ground tremble slightly.

The people in the farewell hall looked at each other in bewilderment.

What was that sound?

"Is there music playing outside?"

Who plays music at a funeral?

Several company executives walked toward the door with furrowed brows, and several distant relatives also stood up.

The drumbeats grew closer and louder, mixed with a jumbled melody.

If you've ever heard of "rustic party stuff" in nightclubs, this is probably what it feels like.

All I can say is about taste.

"Everyone, did you miss me?"

A sound came from outside, louder than the music, with a static-like hum, clearly amplified by a loudspeaker.

Everyone turned to look at the doorway at the same time.

The doors to the farewell hall were pushed open from the outside, and a cold wind carrying snowflakes rushed in.

A white truck was parked outside, its side panel fully extended to form a small stage.

It turns out that this small truck is a mobile performance vehicle.

On the stage stood a man in a dark blue sequined suit, holding a wireless microphone in his hand, the gold chain at his collar shimmering under the lights.

Lee Woo-bin.

His photo still hangs in the center of the farewell hall.

Black and white.

smile.

They act like humans but are actually dogs.

The coffin under the portrait has not yet been covered.

His watch, necklace, and sunglasses were also placed on the offering table.

But he himself was standing at the door, alive and sparkling, the sequins on his clothes so bright they could be used as a reflector.

The farewell hall was silent for a full five seconds.

In those five seconds, someone dropped their teacup on the ground, someone stumbled back several steps and knocked over the flower stand, someone muttered "How is this possible?", and someone rubbed their eyes.

An auntie in the corner screamed and then covered her mouth.

The faces of several CJ ​​Group executives were paler than the white flowers in a coffin.

"You...you...you weren't dead?"

The first to speak was his cousin, Zheng Minghuan.

The one who spat out a mouthful of water at Li Zheng.

His finger was pointing at Lee Woo-bin at the door, his fingertips were trembling, and his whole arm was shaking.

"Dead?"

Lee Woo-bin tilted his head, held up the microphone, jumped off the truck, and walked step by step into the farewell hall.

The leather shoes echoed with each step on the marble floor.

"Who said I'm dead? Is there a body? Is there a death certificate?"

He walked to his own portrait and looked up at the black and white photo.

Then he turned around, grinned at everyone, and pointed to the portrait.

"It looks pretty cool. When was it taken? I don't remember."

No one answered him.

Everyone's expression was as if they were looking at a ghost that had crawled out of the ground.

wrong.

It is something more terrifying than ghosts.

A person who is clearly dead but still alive.

Lee Jae-hyun sat in his wheelchair, his fingers on his knees clenching slightly.

He glanced back at what was behind him.

There was no one there. He turned back and looked at his second son standing under the portrait. His lips twitched, but he said nothing.

"Oh, right, I have something to show you all."

Lee Woo-bin snapped his fingers.

A huge screen lit up in the truck bed behind him.

The image is in black and white, and the angle is a bit strange, as if it was taken from a high place.

The scene shows a living room with a safe inside.

A man in a black suit was squatting in front of the safe, frantically rummaging through its contents.

"Whose house is this?"

Lee Woo-bin asked a question, then pointed the microphone at the audience, speaking as if he were hosting a variety show.

Someone squinted and looked at it carefully.

"Isn't that Woo-bin's living room?"

"It's Woo-bin's house! I went to a party at his house last year, and there was a bar counter in the living room!"

Then everyone's attention focused on the man squatting in front of the safe.

A view from behind.

Suit.

Although I couldn't see his face, his figure and hairstyle were so familiar.

"That person looks like..."

"Shh, don't speak."

"Is that...is that Young Master Cheng Hao?"

The man on the screen is flipping through a folder.

Just then, a cell phone rang in the farewell hall.

Everyone's eyes followed the sound of the bell.

Li Zhihui was holding her phone, the screen lit up, as she dialed Li Chenghao's number.

In the live stream, the man took out his phone.

"Hey, big brother. Where are you? Father's looking for you."

Li Zhihui had the speakers on, and everyone around could hear her.

"I'm in the bathroom, I have diarrhea, I'll be out in a bit."

Everyone in the farewell hall gasped simultaneously.

Because on the big screen, the man squatting in front of the safe was holding his phone to his ear, his mouth opening and closing.

His voice was completely synchronized with Li Zhihui's on the phone.

Li Zhihui's lips curled up.

"Brother, what secret is it that you're in such a hurry to destroy?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, then Li Chenghao's voice became urgent.

"Wisdom, what are you saying? I don't understand what you're saying. I just have an upset stomach and I'm in the toilet..."

"Big brother."

Li Zhihui interrupted him.

"Say hello to the camera. It's right behind you. Yes, look up, look up, yes, right here. See it?"

On the big screen, Li Chenghao slowly turned around, raised his head, and looked at the miniature camera behind the picture frame.

At the same time, everyone in the farewell hall could clearly see the faces on the screen.

There was no doubt left.

That's Li Chenghao.

At this very moment, Lee Sung-ho was actually at Lee Woo-bin's house.

They're looking for something.

This happened after Li Zhengyi had said those things before.

To frame someone.

secret.

evidence……