Listening to the woman’s words, Rong Jingyang’s mouth twitched.
Was Christiano’s grievance with him to be repaid by a woman?
And this woman was his wife!
Rong Jingyang looked at Du Ruoxin’s fingertips against the wrench, so glaring, so ironic.
His tone was cold, yet tinged with an unconscious urgency, "Du Ruoxin, put it down."
Who the hell told you to bring a gun!
If it went off—
Rong Jingyang dared not think, his eyes, like a falcon’s, wished they could snatch the gun pointed at her.
Du Ruoxin refused to let go, her gaze resolute, "No."
"It all started because of me…"
Rong Jingyang gritted his teeth, his tone inevitably intensifying, "Put it down, and talk to me!"
The woman: "—"
Seeing the man’s veins bulging in anger, she felt a jolt.
Of course, Du Ruoxin hadn't intended to cripple herself. She was merely using the situation to provoke Rong Jingyang, hoping he might make peace with her elder brother out of consideration for her.
Silently, she flipped the safety on and placed the phone on the sofa behind her.
Rong Jingyang caught her subtle movement and beckoned.
Du Ruoxin stood still—wasn’t he going to talk? Talk then, say it quickly, are you forgiving or not?
Rong Jingyang changed tack, opening his arms, his deep, captivating eyes fixed on her, "Come here."
Du Ruoxin couldn’t resist such charm, her feet moving involuntarily towards him, "Mr. Rong…"
Rong Jingyang pulled her onto his lap, his hands encircling her waist, "Sigh!"
He sighed softly.
His eyes filled with reproach, "Why did you think of talking to me in this way?"
Du Ruoxin’s nose instantly stung. Besides this method, she couldn’t think of another.
Choking back a sob, she said aggrievedly, "I know you suffered, and my heart aches too, but—"
Both the palm and the back of her hand were flesh; how could she choose?
Towards Rong Jingyang, she could love him, treat him wholeheartedly, bear him children, and do countless other things.
But her elder brother?
It seemed she owed him a debt that could never be repaid in this lifetime.
Facing Du Ruoxin’s choked sobs and helplessness, Rong Jingyang’s heart sank, "I always thought you were afraid of Christiano."
Du Ruoxin remained noncommittal, "Both fearful and dreading."
"But I've grown up, and many things cannot be solved by avoidance."
Listening to the woman’s words, which sounded both mature and philosophical, Rong Jingyang inexplicably recalled something his mother had once said.
"Son, do you know why I liked Ruoxin and not Ivy?"
"Because one day, even if you hurt Ruoxin, that child wouldn't dare to bite you."
"But Ivy is different. She harbors too much resentment and resorts to any means."
"The Rong family doesn't need a woman like that to stir up trouble."
That was why, even though he and Ivy had grown up together, it couldn't compare to the sudden appearance of Du Ruoxin.
Therefore, in Rong Jingyang's eyes, Du Ruoxin was sweet-mouthed, likable, simple, and guileless. Although she was miles away from his ideal partner, he still married her.
At this moment, looking at the woman who, despite having weathered storms, still possessed a maiden’s demeanor, he understood the meaning of his mother's words.
"Mr. Rong…" Du Ruoxin said weakly, her eyes red.
But Rong Jingyang raised his hand and placed it on her lips, "I understand," he stopped her, "Since we are one in marriage, this matter—"
"Consider it repayment for the Rothschild family’s years of nurturing."
"I can let it go."
Really?
Could Rong Jingyang truly let go of his hatred for her elder brother?
Du Ruoxin felt a surge of joy, but the man’s next words made her heart tighten.