"Why target the Zhu Family? Our two families have been allies for generations. You have no reason to do this..."
Zhu Ming’an staggered slightly, his face full of shock as he looked at Gu Moqian.
"Why?" Gu Moqian sneered coldly, "When Zhu Jianian wakes up, go ask her why she tried to harm Ji Wei."
Zhu Ming’an was taken aback: "Jianian just returned to the country a few days ago. When could she have harmed Miss Ji?"
"Just returned?" Gu Moqian’s voice turned icy and sharp as he retorted, "Do you really think I don’t know? She secretly returned two weeks ago."
Zhu Ming’an stumbled back a step.
"She thought she had done it so covertly that no one would notice, even leveraging the owner of Zimei Club. But I still found out—it was your daughter. When it comes to ruthlessness, your daughter has certainly inherited it from you."
Zhu Ming’an felt the blood in his veins freeze. He hadn’t expected Gu Moqian to know everything, to be so crystal clear about the truth, while concealing it all so deeply.
How could he have forgotten? This number one young man in Rongcheng is the rightful head of the Gu Family, the man Gu Zhizhou willingly ceded the family’s century-old foundation to with full trust!
A man as sharp and decisive in business as Gu Moqian, a hundred times craftier than the slyest of foxes—how could he possibly be fooled by something as trivial as a drug? How could he so easily fall into the trap they arrogantly thought was foolproof?
Only now did Zhu Ming’an truly understand just what the nearly deified name "Gu Moqian" meant to the people of Rongcheng.
He slumped onto the sofa nearby, unable even to force a smile. His hands, resting on his knees, trembled uncontrollably from the fear and despair consuming his heart.
He had initially intended to grit his teeth and pin everything on Nan Huiru, but Gu Moqian had already seen through it all—deceiving him was impossible.
"So lively this early in the morning—did I miss something?"
The previously icy solemnity of the living room was suddenly interrupted by the boisterous, carefree voice of a man.
As the voice trailed off, Xi Nanfeng could be seen strolling in while stretching lazily.
Who knew how long he’d been standing outside? Only now did he choose to enter.
Xi Nanfeng swept a casual glance at Gu Moqian and Ji Wei, then swaggered over to a spot beside Zhu Ming’an, plopping down without hesitation. He even helped himself to the tea on the table, taking a sip.
Whether the tea tasted off or not, Xi Nanfeng frowned, and before he could hold back, he spat it out. The tea landed, unerringly, right on Zhu Ming’an’s already ashen face.
The steaming tea caused Zhu Ming’an’s face to convulse painfully for a moment, rendering him completely petrified.
Tea trickled from his elderly face, with a few stray leaves clinging to it.
He couldn’t have looked more miserable if he tried.
Ji Wei could clearly sense that Zhu Ming’an’s dignity had been utterly shattered, yet he stubbornly held his composure, suppressing his humiliation.
In the presence of Gu Moqian, this old fox could only swallow his grievances.
"Uncle Zhu, you’re not mad, are you? The tea from your family tastes so strange—I just can’t drink it. I didn’t mean to spit it all over you. Let me help wipe it off for you?"
Xi Nanfeng offered this with a seemingly earnest expression as he reached out his sleeve to wipe Zhu Ming’an’s face.
Zhu Ming’an turned his head away to dodge, lifting his own hand to wipe the tea from his face. His expression was indescribably grim.
He knew perfectly well that Xi Nanfeng had done it on purpose, but he had no choice but to endure it.
Xi Nanfeng sat back down and asked, "Uncle Zhu, didn’t you say last night that Old Mo wasn’t here? So why did he suddenly show up early this morning?"