"Are you insisting on a divorce because you want to run off with some man, He Ye or Meng Qiancheng?" Zhou Lin's mouth curled in a disdainful arc, his voice full of icy sharpness, "If they knew you had climbed into my bed willingly at the beginning, would they still want you?"
It was a killing stroke, meant to cut deep; such was Zhou Lin's intention this time.
Cheng Zhiwei bit her lip, looking at that mean and harsh face, her eyes turning sore and red. This matter was like a nail in the pillar of shame, to be brought out for lashing at any time.
Her throat tight with a choke, her chest heaving violently, Cheng Zhiwei clutched the table hard, her knuckles turning white, and a mocking and provocative retort slipped out, "You act as if you were so innocent, Zhou Lin. Weren't you very much into it and enjoying yourself that night?"
It wasn't about pushing all the blame onto her to feel wronged, to feel innocent herself.
