Su Xiaomeng remained seated, her gaze fixed forward, and at this moment, her heart was not completely at ease.
Was Rong Jing's assurance, his absolute confidence, truly without any hidden tricks?
At this moment, Rong Jing became even less anxious. He casually walked to the edge of the stage, grabbed a chair, brought it over, and placed it beside Su Xiaomeng before sitting down.
He leaned slightly towards her, whispering to Su Xiaomeng,
"What are you thinking right now?"
"You guess."
Su Xiaomeng glanced at him, replying indifferently.
Rong Jing chuckled softly,
"You must be thinking now that your husband's death... most likely has something to do with me..."
"..."
"Xiao Meng, I'm not Shi Shengde. Human lives, I don't meddle in."
"Rong Jing, what do you want?"
"What do I want? I thought you would know..."
Rong Jing retracted the playful smile from the corner of his lips, his expression turning slightly solemn,
"I want to trample every member of the Yin Family underfoot."
