Hearing this,
Jiang Nanshu's heart still ached.
She was always too late, unable to save Zhou Yanxu's fate.
In both worlds, it was a massive fire.
Yet in her heart, she firmly believed that Zhou Yanxu hadn't died, that he must be living well somewhere in the world.
Jiang Nanshu pursed her lips and also showed sympathy, "That's really too bad, he was very young, wasn't he?"
"Yes, he was only 29 when he died, not even married, let alone having children. It's such a shame." The maid's words poured out like a broken dam—everyone likes gossip, and she couldn't resist revealing more to Jiang Nanshu: "The burnt house is just behind this villa. They say the fire raged for three days, and by the time they got it under control, the former Family Head was burnt to ashes, not even a corpse was left behind."
Jiang Nanshu looked at the maid, her heart rate accelerating, "You're saying not even his body was left?"
