Ziluo, his beautiful, courageous, and fragile Ziluo would not survive if she caught that kind of cold.
Even with a vaccine, she wouldn’t make it.
He murdered his own brother.
His soul might be condemned to hell for this, but by destroying that virus and saving countless lives, he thought that the merits could offset the sins, and he also saved Ziluo.
Ziluo was entrusted to him by their mother on her deathbed.
Ziluo was the continuation of their mother’s life; no one was more like their mother than Ziluo.
Mu Feng walked up to the guards; many had heard the gunshots and witnessed the scene, but no one spoke.
Their expressions were all uncertain.
Some were at a loss, while others felt relieved.
Many people disliked Mu Shaocheng’s tyranny; now everything seemed to be over.
He scanned several faces, "Mu Chen is dead. My father is dead too."
"From now on, I will take over all the work. Please take care of my brother carefully; I want to take him home, to be buried next to our father."
The pale-faced guards nodded.
They all knew what to do.
They could choose to become Mu Feng’s people or face death.
They chose to survive.
Someone whispered instructions to others, and they began to handle Mu Chen’s remains.
Mu Feng glanced at Ziluo in Jiang Xiaoxiao’s arms, "When can I take my sister back? Our deal is complete."
He had done everything he needed to do.
Song Moting glanced at Jiang Xiaoxiao, "You should know it’s not over yet."
He was not cruel-hearted.
In this world, there are no everlasting secrets.
Jiang Xiaoxiao’s secret had only Mu Feng as the only person who knew.
Mu Feng looked at Ziluo expressionlessly, "I will disband everyone. When I take Ziluo back, I will give you an explanation."
He understood that Song Moting wasn’t like Jiang Xiaoxiao—any man would understand gains and losses.
As long as Ziluo could survive, he had already been stained with too much sin.
Then let him end it all with his life.
The sound of a car came from the darkness.
Chaotic footsteps, Mu Feng silently left.
Jin Dachuan appeared behind them with his people.
"You’ve finally returned."
Song Moting went up to give him a hug. It had been a month since they last met.
Suddenly, there was a feeling that things have changed over time.
Only to hear Song Moting calmly say as usual, "Everything is normal."
Vehicles cautiously began organizing the retreat.
Jiang Xiaoxiao returned to his embrace again.
She thought she hadn’t moved, only feeling him drawing her in, wrapping her in his protective embrace.
"I’m very sorry," he murmured as he pulled her in.
He stopped to open the car door for her,
"but I can’t risk your safety."
Anger flared in her heart; she lifted her head off his shoulder, staring at him,
"What about your safety?"
She questioned passionately, "Did you ever think about how I would feel when you do such things? Do you think I didn’t notice you standing between me and others, so if someone shoots at me, you’d take the bullet?"
She punched his chest.
This even surprised herself; she had never hit anyone before.
She hit him again, the pressure making her fists ache.
"Damn it, I want you healthy and whole! I want our children to have a father, I want more of your children, so you need to live, do you hear me?"
"I hear you," Song Moting said in a deep, calm voice, holding her fists pressed against his chest, immobilizing them.
"I care about myself too. I know I need to do everything necessary to protect you and our son."
She relaxed against him, lips trembling, holding back her tears.
She wasn’t the type to cry easily, but these past days her nerves were frayed, the tight-stringed tension was about to snap.
She still didn’t want to cry in front of him.
He had too much to deal with, and shouldn’t have to turn around to face a crying wife.
Someone lifted Ziluo into the car, Jiang Xiaoxiao glanced at the hesitant little ball by her feet biting his lips.
He fidgeted, clutching his clothes, head lowered, hiding his expression. Jiang Xiaoxiao was about to get in the car.
Seeing the little chubby one wasn’t moving, "Come on! Get in the car with Mom."
The little chubby one paused, standing still, whispered, "I can go now, you’re safe, you don’t need me to pretend to be your son anymore. I know I should go, but can you drop me off in the city? I won’t disturb you."
The voice was small, with a tinge of unnaturalness.
Trying hard to straighten his back, pretending not to care.