When Mo Yiqian saw Su Mosheng spit out a mouthful of blood, his heart skipped a beat, and an inexplicable pain surged within him.
Su Mosheng had always been gentle and composed in front of him. Before their marriage, she smiled warmly; after, she endured silently and stubbornly. But now, she looked as if her heart had turned to ashes, as if she no longer cared about anything. This was a Su Mosheng he had never seen before.
Seeing Mo Yiqian's wavering expression, Meng Kexin's eyes flashed with jealousy and hatred. She whispered softly, "Yiqian, your mother is already gone. Don't make things harder for Mosheng. She's lost the child she worked so hard to conceive—she must be heartbroken. Considering everything she's done was for you, please don't blame her anymore."
These hypocritical words sounded even more ironic to Su Mosheng. She could no longer suppress the fury in her heart. Grabbing a fruit knife that had fallen nearby, she lunged at Meng Kexin.
"Shut up! Meng Kexin, you vicious woman! I'll kill you!"
The moment she lunged, Mo Yiqian instinctively reached out to block her, turning to shield Meng Kexin in his arms. The fruit knife slashed across his arm, leaving a deep gash. Blood instantly soaked through his white shirt, dripping down his arm and pooling on the floor.
"Su Mosheng, who are you putting on this act of being wronged for? You're the one who did wrong. You're the heartless, vicious woman, aren't you?"
With that, Mo Yiqian angrily kicked Su Mosheng, sending her tumbling to the ground again. The fruit knife fell from her hand, clattering loudly against the floor.
Lying on the ground, Su Mosheng seemed numb to the pain, staring blankly at him. The moment Mo Yiqian shielded Meng Kexin, she felt her heart shatter, as if her entire world had collapsed.
And his words tore her heart into pieces.
Meng Kexin screamed, covering the wound on Mo Yiqian's arm, and cried out accusingly, "Mosheng, if you hate me, fine, but how could you hurt Yiqian like this? Is this what you call loving him?"
Facing Meng Kexin's accusation, Su Mosheng's tears streamed down her face as she shook her head, unable to defend herself.
She had never imagined that Mo Yiqian would risk his life to shield Meng Kexin from the knife. She never wanted to hurt him!
Mo Yiqian glared at her, his gaze icy and devoid of any warmth, as if he were looking at a dead person. "Su Mosheng, you really deserve to die!"
Su Mosheng stopped crying, stunned, and stared at him blankly.
He said she deserved to die—did he hate her so much that he wished for her death?
His words pierced her heart like ten thousand arrows, making her numb heart ache suffocatingly once again.
"I deserve to die? What about Meng Kexin? You'd rather believe the murderer who killed your mother than me. Mo Yiqian, I'm your wife!"
Su Mosheng's heart was torn with grief. For loving this man, she had not only given fifteen years of her youth but also lost her child. She had truly been blind!
Mo Yiqian, however, seemed to hear the biggest joke of all and sneered, "If it weren't to avenge my mother and to torment you every moment, do you think I would have married you? Su Mosheng, don't be so self-important!"
His shattered Su Mosheng's last shred of hope.
She had thought that no matter how much Mo Yiqian hated her, there would still be a place for her in his heart, because he had at least married her.
But now, it seemed it had all been her own wishful thinking!
She had endured two years of Mo Yiqian's torment and had now lost her child. If loving someone required such a painful price, she truly had no courage to continue!
"Mo Yiqian, no matter how much I've wronged the Mo family or you, I've paid the price. A life for a life—my child has already paid the debt. From now on, we owe each other nothing!"
Su Mosheng's face was resolute, though her eyes revealed exhaustion and sorrow.
"Mo Yiqian, let's get a divorce!"