Chapter 1799 He Turned Out to Be That Masked Man in the Hospital
Mu Qingchi couldn't sleep that night. She was quietly held in Ji Zhanbai's arms, but her heart was in turmoil.
Ji Zhanbai was not disfigured but pretended to be disfigured, which means that his previous coma may have been fake.
He is not comatose or disfigured, why should he pretend?
He is the crown prince of the Ji family, and he can get everything he wants. What good will it do him to pretend to be disfigured and comatose?
She really couldn't figure out Ji Zhanbai's purpose, and then thought of the masked man who traded with her.
Could he be Ji Zhanbai himself?
Before, she thought that the masked man could not be Ji Zhanbai because Ji Zhanbai's legs could not stand, but the masked man was a normal person.
Now she began to doubt that there was nothing wrong with Ji Zhanbai's legs, if Ji Zhanbai was the masked man.
What is his purpose in doing this?
Ji Zhanbai cannot be the masked man in Rongcheng. After all, the masked man came to him so that he could pretend to be Jiang Jingyao, and so far Ji Zhanbai believed that he was Jiang Jingyao who had lost his memory.
Will Ji Zhanbai be the masked man who raped him in the hospital?
Mu Qingchi held back her humiliation and anger and recalled the situation at that time. At that time, she screamed for help at first, but later she did not dare to call for help again after hearing Song Yin's voice.
The masked man was very rough with her, and she was frightened and angry, and later she fainted from the torture, so she didn't have much of an impression of the masked man who raped her.
So she had no way to determine whether Ji Zhanbai was the masked man in the hospital. No, Mu Qingchi suddenly remembered a detail.
When she committed suicide by jumping off the building, it was the masked man who grabbed her hand. When she passed out, she saw a line of English letters tattooed on the masked man's arm.
If Ji Zhan had this tattoo on his arm in white clothes, then he would be the masked man in the hospital.
When Mu Qingchi thought of this, he really wanted to turn on the light and take a closer look to see if there were any letters tattooed on Ji Zhanbai's arm.
Turning on the lights suddenly for inspection will make Ji Zhanbai alert. Since he doesn't want to expose his situation, she can't blatantly question and verify, she can only wait.
Mu Qingchi closed her eyes and her heart was up and down until dawn. The window began to turn white. Mu Qingchi opened her eyes and she gently broke away from Ji Zhanbai's arms.
Ji Zhanbai's hand was always hugging her. She gently picked up the sleeve of his pajamas and her eyes fell on Ji Zhanbai's arm. There was actually a row of English letters tattooed on it.
The masked man who raped him in the hospital and saved him turned out to be Ji Zhanbai!
Mu Qingchi stared blankly at Ji Zhan's handsome face, his mind buzzing with thoughts.
Why would he do this to himself?
Why did he rape her? What was he planning?
Does he already know about his relationship with Song Yin? If so, the truth that she is not Jiang Jingyao has been exposed to Ji Zhanbai.
Did Ji Zhanbai treat her like that to punish himself for lying?
Mu Qingchi's mind was full of rhetorical questions and hypotheses one after another, and he was about to explode!
She gently got off the bed, put on her clothes, and left the room.
Mu Qingchi went to the terrace of the villa alone. Standing on the terrace, she stared into the distance in a daze.
Proving that Ji Zhanbai was the masked man who raped her didn't make her feel better, but made her even more frightened.
If Ji Zhanbai knew about her relationship with Song Yin, would he attack Song Yin?
Should she inform Song Yin and ask him to leave as soon as possible?
No, she didn't even know where Song Yin was, so how could she notify Song Yin?
Mu Qingchi knew that she was trapped in this situation that was designed by someone who didn't know who it was. For the sake of her parents, she couldn't leave and could only bear it silently. No matter what happened in the future, she could only bear it.
