Tang Wanxing's appearance caught Qing Muye by surprise.
As the cherished daughter of the Tang family, she should have been recuperating at home after her injury. To think she would come to Lancheng.
After hearing her words, Qing Muye's expression remained cold and unmoved. "In this world, there are no ifs."
He fell silent for a long while, finally uttering seven words.
Seven words, each striking a painful blow, seemingly intending to shatter her last hope.
The moment Qing Muye finished speaking and looked up at her, Tang Wanxing felt as if her heart was being squeezed tightly, a searing pain that made even breathing feel like a sharp stab.
"So, you're going to hurt me for Meng Jingwei?" Tang Wanxing raised her hand, presenting her injured little finger to him.
The finger was wrapped in gauze. Due to her vigorous movements, the wound had bled, staining the gauze red and seeping out from the edges of her finger.
As her finger had likely just been reattached, she had disregarded the consequences and exerted force, causing her hand to tremble involuntarily from the pain.
Qing Muye's narrow eyes flickered to her hand. Upon seeing the blood seeping from her finger, his gaze remained indifferent and chilling, devoid of any sympathy.
When he withdrew his gaze, his lips parted slightly, and he said, "It's just a finger." The man let out a soft scoff, a chilling edge coloring his stern face. "But Tang Nian wanted Awei's life!"
With that, he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes once more as if in a light doze.
Tang Wanxing froze for a moment, a flicker of guilt in her eyes. "She didn't die, did she!"
The unspoken implication was that since the person was still alive, cutting off her finger was perhaps too much.
As Tang Wanxing uttered these words, Qing Muye's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly before naturally relaxing.
"From the moment you acted against me, you knew this day would come. Qing Muye, do you truly not regret it?" Seeing his silence, Tang Wanxing pressed on.
In the past, she would affectionately call him 'Ye'. But now, with everything that had transpired, they had become enemies, and she naturally changed her address.
Yet, in her heart, he remained the man she loved so deeply that she could not extricate herself.
What made Tang Wanxing both hateful and jealous was that they had experienced gunfights and shared life-and-death experiences years ago. But now, for Meng Jingwei, he had turned his back on her ruthlessly, even disregarding the dire consequences of his actions against her, and had avenged Meng Jingwei without hesitation.
"If I had to do it again, ten times, a hundred times, I would make the same choice."
Qing Muye sat lazily in the chair, his posture relaxed and at ease, showing no sign of the defeat and dishevelment of a 'prisoner'.
"If I had to do it again, ten times, a hundred times, I would make the same choice!"
His words echoed in Tang Wanxing's mind, striking her fragile heart. On her thousand- और-hole heart, an additional wound seemed not to hurt as much.
Scarred and bruised, numb to the pain, she could no longer feel the piercing ache.
A police officer standing nearby, listening to their conversation and looking at the beautiful woman before him, felt for a moment that Qing Muye was somewhat oblivious.
What a beautiful woman, yet he didn't even want to look at her more than necessary. How beautiful must his wife be to make him disdain all other women?
Tang Wanxing stood there rigidly for a long, long time.
Her hands at her sides were clenched tightly, her fingernails digging deeply into her palms. The sharp nails pierced her palm skin, causing fresh crimson blood to well up, yet she was completely unaware.
Seeing her bloody hands, the police officer felt a pang of sympathy. Out of kindness, he offered a tissue. "Your hand is bleeding, wipe it."