The Mu family mansion had always been a place of quiet dignity, a fortress that stood tall amidst the passage of time. But tonight, the air was thick with tension, suffocating and heavy. In the grand sitting room, where sunlight once bathed the elegant furnishings in warmth, only the glow of the chandelier illuminated the figures inside.
Jiu Hian'er sat on the pristine leather couch, her back ramrod straight, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her usually well-maintained poise was beginning to crack. She had dressed carefully for this moment, in an outfit that spoke of dignity and restraint, but the pain in her chest could not be masked by fine fabrics and delicate accessories. Across from her stood Mu Yeming, cold and imposing as ever. He had always been a man of few words, a man who wielded silence like a weapon. But tonight, he had come to speak—to end everything.
