Facing Xushu's cold and scornful attitude, a surge of rage flared up from the bottom of Yi Zhonghai's heart, rushing straight to his head. His hands clenched into fists of their own accord, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. The veins on his forehead pulsed, and his teeth ground together audibly. In this courtyard, he had always been the First Uncle, a man whose word was law and who commanded deep respect—when had he ever been subjected to such humiliation?
However, the moment he thought of Jia Dongxu languishing in prison—his carefully chosen retirement plan—and Shazhu, his backup plan, he felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his head. His fury was instantly suppressed by the cold weight of reality. He swallowed his pride, the bitterness of it sticking in his throat.
Surprisingly, even Mrs. Jia, who was usually sharp-tongued and volatile, remained uncharacteristically silent. She bit her lip, the muscles in her face twitching, her eyes filled with resentment and frustration. Yet, she held her tongue, though her flushed face betrayed the turmoil within.
Chapter 82