The temperature in the room seemed to drop instantly.
Ying Xue's chopsticks froze midair before she slammed them down with a sharp crack. Her face darkened, her eyes cold and sharp like ice.
"Junhan only cares about that woman and her son," she spat bitterly. Her voice dripped with venom, every word weighted with years of resentment. "For him, Minghao, you are not his son. And I… I am not his wife."
Silence fell. Xu Yingying froze, biting her lip nervously, while Lu Minghao's arrogant expression faltered slightly, a flicker of unease crossing his face. He hesitated slightly and pressed his lips together tightly before he shook his head, his eyes flashing with stubbornness.
"No," he muttered, his voice sharp. "I don't believe it. Dad would never stop caring about me. I'm still his son!"
Ying Xue's cold gaze stayed fixed on him, but Lu Minghao's frustration only grew.
