His voice was hoarse beyond measure, heavy with profound sorrow and fatigue. Old Ling wasn't an ordinary person; his death must have involved many affairs to be dealt with.
The various relationships with relatives and friends, and people from the political realm asking questions and needing to be received—being the eldest son, the heavy responsibility of the Ling's family had fallen on him. He couldn't afford to lose decorum; he was probably so busy he didn't even have time to catch his breath.
"I'm sorry... I can't help with anything," Ye Lu felt immensely guilty, "How is Ling Xiu now?"
"He is deeply grieving and despondent; grandfather's death hit him too hard. Right now, he's highly emotional, frantically collecting evidence to investigate. He says he will go to all lengths to find the murderer, to absolutely tear them into pieces," Ling Yan's usually calm voice now carried a sharp, bloodthirsty edge.
Ye Lu's heart jolted violently, and her face turned deathly pale.