Yu Mengyao's lips trembled, her bravado crumbling under his harsh reprimand. "Uncle…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. She lowered her head, her fingers twisting into the fabric of her dress.
"How could I leave without taking revenge?" she choked out, her body trembling. Tears spilled down her cheeks, her sobs pitiful and broken.
Her uncle's stern expression softened slightly at the sight of her crying. He let out a long, tired sigh.
"You could have waited a little longer," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Your uncle would have helped you get revenge on those who wronged you."
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, his gaze shifted toward the figure lying motionless on the floor.
Su Qing.
She had been thrown aside in the heat of the confrontation, her small frame barely moving. Her clothes were dirty, her face pale, and her wrists were still bound.
His eyes darkened. "And what about her?" he asked coldly. "How do you plan to deal with her?"
