Chapter 55 - A divoce

Chapter 55: Chapter 55 - A divoce

Ying Rui stared at her.

Mo Yuxin’s hand was still pointing at his phone. Even now, with Mao Mao clinging to his leg and blood drying on the boy’s knee, she was waiting for him to explain himself.

"You watched me without telling me," she said, her voice rising. "What did you expect to find? What exactly did you think I would—"

"Enough."

She stopped for a moment, but the anger on her face didn’t fade.

"I’m your wife, Rui. You can’t just put cameras everywhere and treat me like some stranger in my own house."

Ying Rui carefully removed his arm from Jua’s shoulders.

"Can you stand?"

Jua nodded. His chest still hurt where she had struck him, but his feet were steady beneath him now.

Mao Mao immediately reached for his hand.

His small fingers slipped between Jua’s, gripping tightly enough to draw his attention. Jua looked down and found the boy watching him with damp lashes and a trembling mouth.

"Gege..."

Jua bent toward him. Mao Mao released his father’s trousers and pressed into his embrace, winding both arms around his waist.

Ying Rui waited until they were clear of him before stepping toward Mo Yuxin.

She lifted her chin.

"What? Are you going to tell me I can’t even be angry now?"

His hand struck her cheek.

The sound startled Jua. He pulled Mao Mao closer before he even thought about it, one palm covering the back of the boy’s head.

Mo Yuxin stood motionless.

Her face had turned with the blow. A loose strand of hair lay across her mouth, and she slowly raised her hand to her cheek, touching it as though she needed to make certain it had happened.

"Rui?"

He was breathing hard.

She looked at him, and the disbelief in her eyes gave way to tears.

"You hit me?"

Against Jua’s shirt, Mao Mao lowered his face.

His shoulders moved slightly. Jua mistook it for another shiver and held him more securely, rubbing his back with a careful hand.

Mao Mao hid his mouth in the folds of his shirt.

He had noticed the cameras last night.

His father had thought everyone was asleep. Mao Mao had watched him from the corridor, keeping still while Ying Rui adjusted the little devices and checked his phone. He hadn’t understood everything his father was planning, but he knew enough.

Someone would finally be watching.

After that, all Mao Mao had needed to do was behave. Stay close to Jua Ge. Be the good little boy his father wanted to see.

Mo Yuxin hadn’t needed any help getting angry.

His elbow still ached. The scrape on his knee stung whenever his trousers brushed it, and he hadn’t expected her to pull him off the bed so hard. But now his father was standing in front of her, furious, and she could no longer smile sweetly and tell him that Mao Mao had been difficult again.

A faint red gleam passed through his eyes.

He shut them and tucked his face farther into Jua’s embrace.

Jua’s fingers moved through his hair.

"It’s all right," he whispered.

Mao Mao tightened his hold.

Across the room, Mo Yuxin began to cry.

"I love you," she said. Her voice cracked, and she took a small step toward her husband. "Rui, I love you. How could you treat me like this?"

Ying Rui looked at her hand resting against her cheek.

Then he glanced back at Mao Mao.

The boy’s face was hidden, but the red mark she had left on it had been plainly visible a moment ago.

"I leave him here because I trust you," he said.

"Rui—"

"I trust you with my child, and this is how you look after him?"

His voice rose before he could contain it.

"You hit him. You bully him until he’s afraid to speak. He’s been in the hospital with a heart condition, and he comes home to this!"

Mo Yuxin’s crying faltered.

Her hand dropped from her cheek.

"You think I caused that?"

Ying Rui’s expression tightened.

"I’m talking about what you’ve done to him."

"No, you’re blaming me for everything." She wiped at her face, smearing the mascara beneath one eye. "You weren’t here. You don’t know how much trouble he causes. You don’t know what it’s like looking after him every day."

Mao Mao’s fingers curled in Jua’s shirt.

Jua kept his eyes on her. He could feel how tightly the boy was holding him, and each word she said made it harder to remain quiet.

"He’s ten," Ying Rui said.

"And he knows exactly what he’s doing!"

Her voice sharpened. The tears were still running, leaving dark tracks down her cheeks, but she no longer seemed interested in lowering her voice.

"That bastard got it from that bitch Feng! That’s where his sick heart came from. Why are you putting it on me?"

Ying Rui went still.

Mo Yuxin saw the change in his face. Her mouth remained open for a second after she finished speaking.

Then his hand struck her again.

She stumbled sideways, failed to catch herself, and fell to the floor. Her palm slapped against the boards. For a moment, she stayed there with her head lowered, then brought both hands to her burning cheek.

Jua’s stomach tightened.

He turned slightly, shielding Mao Mao from the sight, although the boy had already buried himself against him.

Ying Rui stood over his wife. His fingers were stiff at his side, and the next breath he took seemed to catch in his throat.

"I want a divorce."

Mo Yuxin looked up.

The anger vanished from her face.

"What?"

"A divorce," he repeated.

She stared at him, waiting for something to follow. A threat she could argue with. A condition she could promise to meet.

He gave her nothing.

"No," she whispered.

Her gaze darted toward the doorway. The butler stood there, having arrived during the shouting, his face drawn and his hands held rigidly in front of him.

He had heard.

That frightened her more than the slap.

"Rui, no. You can’t mean that."

She pushed herself forward on her knees and caught his leg. Her fingers clutched the fabric of his trousers, wrinkling it beneath her grip.

"Please. I was angry. I shouldn’t have said that."

Ying Rui looked down at her.

"I only hit him this time," she hurried on. "You saw one argument. Just one. I’ve never abused him. I haven’t."

Jua’s hand stopped on Mao Mao’s back.

Mo Yuxin was looking only at her husband now. She seemed to have forgotten that both boys were close enough to hear every word.

"Ask the servants," she said. "They know how much I do for this family. I take care of the house. I take care of the children while you’re away. You can’t throw all of that aside because I lost my temper once."

Her tears fell onto his trousers.

"I’m sorry. I’ll apologise to him. I’ll do it now."

She turned her head toward Mao Mao.

"Mao Mao, tell your father. Tell him I don’t usually hit you."

The boy didn’t look up.

Jua felt him press closer and settled his palm firmly between his shoulder blades.

"Don’t ask him that," Jua said.

Mo Yuxin’s eyes flashed toward him, but Ying Rui spoke before she could answer.

"Enough, Yuxin."

"Then tell me what you want me to do!"

He rubbed his forehead with his fingers.

For years, he had accepted her explanations because accepting them was easy. Mao Mao was quiet because he was shy. He cried because he was sensitive. He avoided his mother because he was going through a difficult phase.

Ying Rui had heard those things and gone back to work.

Now she was clinging to his leg, telling him this had happened only once, while his son hid in someone else’s arms.

He lowered his hand and looked toward the door.

"Pack her things."

The butler hesitated.

Ying Rui’s gaze stayed on him.

"All of them. I want her out of the house now."

"Yes, sir."

Mo Yuxin’s grip tightened.

"No!"

She looked up at him, her tear-streaked face twisting.

"You can’t do that. You can’t just throw me out!"

"Let go."

"I gave you a son!"

Her voice carried into the corridor.

"A healthy son. I gave you Ying Di, so why do you still prefer that sickly bastard?"

Jua felt Mao Mao’s body tense against him.

He looked down, but all he could see was the crown of the boy’s head. He drew him closer, his own jaw tightening.

Ying Rui took a long breath.

Mo Yuxin was still staring up at him, waiting for her words to matter. She had raised Ying Di well. Ying Di was healthy, clever, everything a father could want. Surely Rui couldn’t forget that merely because Mao Mao had cried in front of him.

"Do you want me to send Ying Di away as well?" Ying Rui asked.

Her hands loosened at once.

"No."

She shook her head hurriedly.

"No, not Di. Don’t do that to him."

Ying Rui said nothing.

"He hasn’t done anything," she pleaded. "Let Didi stay with you. Please."

She glanced toward the doorway again. The butler was waiting, and somewhere beyond him, someone moved quietly out of sight.

She could hear drawers being opened upstairs.

They were already packing.

"I’ll go," she said.

The words came out so softly that Ying Rui scarcely heard them.

Then she repeated them.

"I’ll go. Just let Didi stay."

She released his trousers and struggled to her feet. Her knee slipped beneath her skirt, and she caught the edge of the bed to steady herself.

No one reached to help.

Mo Yuxin stood with one hand braced against the mattress. She wiped her eyes with the other, dragging the ruined makeup farther across her cheek, then tried to smooth her hair.

Her gaze moved to Mao Mao.

He was still in Jua’s arms, his fingers closed around Jua’s hand.

For an instant, he lifted his face just enough to look at her.

Mo Yuxin paused.

There was something in his expression she couldn’t quite catch before he lowered his head again.

"Gege," he murmured, tugging gently at Jua’s hand. "My knee hurts."

Jua immediately looked down at the scrape.

"All right. Let’s sit first."

He helped Mao Mao onto the edge of the bed, keeping a hand beneath his elbow. The boy leaned against him as soon as he was seated.

Ying Rui turned toward them.

Behind him, Mo Yuxin wiped her eyes again and straightened her skirt, but he was already bending to look at his son’s injured knee.