Meng Kexin hadn't expected Su Mosheng, who appeared so weak, to suddenly erupt with such force.
Just as she was about to fight back, she heard a noise at the door.
Her expression instantly changed, turning pitiful and tearful as she cried out in a soft, trembling voice, "Mosheng, I know you resent me for testifying against you two years ago about the fire. But that was Yiqian's mother! Even though you were my best friend, I couldn't bring myself to lie for you. If you're really in so much pain, just go ahead and strangle me. Let me atone for your sins!"
Su Mosheng couldn't believe that even at death's door, Meng Kexin was still trying to smear her name. Enraged, she tightened her grip.
But at that moment, Mo Yiqian burst into the room, his face filled with fury.
"Su Mosheng, have you lost your mind?" Mo Yiqian shouted.
He had heard every word Meng Kexin said at the door. He never imagined that Su Mosheng, in an attempt to clear her name back then, had tried to pressure Meng Kexin into lying for her. How could she have become so vicious?
Su Mosheng, already weak, was flung off the bed by Mo Yiqian's forceful push. Her head hit the corner of the table and then the floor, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. When she came to, blood was streaming down her forehead, dripping onto the floor in small, crimson pools.
Yet, she seemed to feel no pain, her gaze fixed on Mo Yiqian's hands tightly holding Meng Kexin.
The man she had loved for fifteen years had just hurt her to protect another woman!
How ironic, how laughable!
Su Mosheng suddenly burst into laughter, a heart-wrenching, desperate laugh that filled the room with an overwhelming sense of sorrow.
"Mo Yiqian, do you know that it was Meng Kexin who set that fire back then? She hated me for staying by your side, hated your mother for wanting me to marry you. She wanted to burn us all to death!"
"Your mother died saving me. This life, I owe it to your Mo family, and I am willing to repay it! But how can you protect and love the real murderer? Aren't you afraid your mother will never rest in peace?"
Mo Yiqian was stunned, seemingly shaken by Su Mosheng's words.
He looked down at Meng Kexin in his arms. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she held them back, her lips bitten pale, her face devoid of color, and her body trembling.
"Mosheng, I was wrong back then. As long as you can forgive me, I'm willing to bear anything."
Her appearance of enduring while holding back tears reminded Mo Yiqian of what he had heard outside the door.
"Su Mosheng, that's enough! Kexin is so kind, willing to use her own life to atone for your sins. How can you have the nerve to slander her like this? You really are a vicious, poisonous woman!"
Meng Kexin was kind, and she was the venomous one?
Su Mosheng felt utterly foolish. He had mercilessly killed their child—how could she expect him to believe her words now?
She clearly saw the smug smile curling on Meng Kexin's lips, as if mocking her, saying that even if she knew the truth, no one would believe her.
Overwhelmed by rage and despair, Su Mosheng coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Staring blankly at the pool of blood on the floor, she whispered softly, no longer hysterical with anger or wracked with pain. Her voice was weary, almost unreal.
"Mo Yiqian, do I have to die for you to believe what I say?"