Chapter 25: You Don't Need to Apologize to Minglang

Luo Minglang sat in the back of the Maybach, his anxiety burning like ants on a hot pan. He worried his wife would be frightened, unable to withstand the pressure from the police. He had never once believed she could actually take a life. The memory of that traffic accident in Weihai years ago suddenly swept through him like a cold wind, yet that chill only stoked the blaze of his unease.

It was the evening rush hour, and the streets were clogged with traffic. Staring out at the unmoving cars, his eyes grew red with impatience—he wanted nothing more than to be by his wife's side, to hold her and comfort her.

This was the first time Tao Deli had seen Luo Minglang on the verge of tears. But there was nothing to be done; the car was stuck fast. When Tao turned back to check on him, Luo Minglang had already taken off his suit jacket, preparing to get out. "It's too slow. I'm worried she'll be scared. I’ll run the rest of the way. You catch up with the car, and hurry the lawyer along."

Luo Minglang stepped out, rolling up his trousers, and sprinted down the jammed main road. Four kilometers still separated him from his destination, but he ran as if his life depended on it, his thoughts filled only with images of his wife’s fear and distress. The more he imagined her suffering, the faster he ran.

Love has a power so great it turns the impossible into possible.

When he finally arrived at the police station, sweat soaked his body and his breath came in ragged gasps. Still, nothing could hide his usual cultured elegance and noble bearing. He was, after all, the city’s richest man—a presence known to all in G City—so his arrival caused a stir. Even the suspects in custody couldn’t help but glance his way.

Gathering himself, Luo Minglang straightened his clothes and his emotions before entering the interrogation room. Seeing his wife’s pale, pained face, he immediately rushed forward, embracing her tightly, his voice hoarse with apology: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I was late." He gently patted her back, soothing her again and again: "It’s all right. I’m here. Don’t be afraid."

It’s true—without comparison, there is no pain. At that moment, Zhang Guoguo remembered the cold, unfeeling face of Gu Yiqiao when she was once framed for murder. How utterly indifferent he had been. But now, Luo Minglang gave her real, tangible love. Because of that weighty love, she felt no fear. Even if she was ultimately found guilty, she would not regret it. All she hoped was that the knife wounds she dealt to Shen Yi were not in vain—that at least, she had avenged her father and mother.

"Officer, my wife is innocent," Luo Minglang declared before even asking about what had happened. The officers were surprised, then a little disappointed. They turned the computer screen containing surveillance footage toward him: "The evidence is conclusive, Mr. Luo. Your wife is guilty of intentional assault. We have already approved her arrest."

"No, my wife is innocent—" Even confronted with the facts, Luo Minglang refused to accept them. But Zhang Guoguo took his hand and said, "Minglang, thank you for believing in me. But I really did hurt Shen Yi. You should understand why. The debt of a murdered father is irreconcilable—I do not regret it."

"You don’t regret it, but what about me? Did you ever think about how I’d feel?"

His eyes shone with grievance, pain, and disappointment, leaving Zhang Guoguo stunned and a little sorrowful. She went to embrace Luo Minglang, only then realizing that when she stabbed Shen Yi with the scalpel, she hadn't thought of Luo Minglang at all. In that moment, she was Shen Linyue—a woman with no ties to Luo Minglang.

Now, all she could offer was an apology, and this embrace.

"Minglang, I’m sorry, I was too impulsive. But you must understand, faced with Shen Yi and that despicable face of his, I truly, truly couldn’t control myself."

"Sorry? You did the right thing," interrupted her mother, Kong Yizhen, as she strode in. Dressed in a white Chanel suit, her hair elegantly pinned up, she carried a small clutch. Her skin was fair and smooth, her bearing graceful; even past fifty, she remained dignified and charming. Grabbing her daughter by the shoulders, she said with pride, "Guoguo, I underestimated you before. I never imagined you’d be so brave, so decisive in avenging your father. It may have been impulsive, but a child can do no wrong in seeking justice for her parents. You don’t owe Minglang an apology." She turned to Luo Minglang, her gaze stern. "I trust that Minglang will understand, and will do everything to protect you. Right, Minglang?"