"No...you used to care so much about my illness..."
Chu Wuyang smiled softly, but her smile was cold and distant.
"Because I'm annoyed by you."
Without hesitation,
"I don't like you, so naturally I don't want you to focus your attention on me."
"I'll be so grateful if you ever let me go."
"If your illness can be cured, that would be even better. We can just end it here and there, and we won't have to go through all this trouble."
He seemed to be desperately searching for evidence of the love they once shared.
And she was like tearing up each and every certificate.
Chu Wuyang lowered her eyes, her tone soft, yet every word pierced the heart.
“Look at all the things I’ve done… whether it was cooperating with Grandpa Jin, using the child as a bargaining chip, or even going to great lengths to care for your illness… everything I’ve done is to get rid of you.”
Jing Min seemed to have all his emotions drained away, and he fell into a dull, numb silence.
"Yeah?"
He murmured, his eyes vacant.
"So... you did all this to leave me..."
His tone was light and airy, like a sigh, yet also like sarcasm.
But then the tone shifted abruptly, slowly descending with a suffocating obsession—
"What can I do... I still don't want to let you go."
His face was expressionless.
Like a puppet in human skin, it mechanically and slowly raised its hand.
The bodyguard behind him immediately stepped forward and handed him a black gun.
The cold gun barrel was instantly in hand.
He seemed to come alive, his eyes filled with a churning, terrifying emotion.
Chu Wuyang's expression changed drastically; her eyes immediately tensed, and she spoke up alertly.
"Jingmin, don't be impulsive!"
Yang Jinchu immediately pulled her into his arms, his expression highly vigilant.
But Jingmin didn't even look at them.
With his eyes lowered, his thumb slowly rubbed the gun barrel.
Yangyang,
He spoke in a low voice, his tone as cold as ice.
"Is it too late to realize now that you're worried about my impulsiveness?"
"Since you know me so well, you shouldn't keep recklessly provoking me."
He slowly raised his head, his gaze sweeping across her eyes, his eyes so deep they seemed to devour her.
"Just pretend to be my good wife, I won't expose you."
As he finished speaking, his aura grew even heavier, his voice as cold as the wind blowing through a graveyard—
"Or are you saying you're too lazy to even pretend anymore?"
He laughed, a laugh more chilling than tears.
"What a pity. If you had continued to pretend, I might have died at your hands long ago, and it would have been over and done with, and all this trouble wouldn't have happened."
He slowly raised his hand, pointing the gun at Yang Jinchu, his fingertips firmly pressed against his forehead.
"Yangyang..."
Jing Min's voice was low and slow, yet it carried a chilling ruthlessness.
"Can I trade his life for yours?"
The muzzle was cold, and the finger pulling the trigger tightened little by little—the air seemed to freeze at that moment.
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