The first court hearing took place a month later.
The weather was nice that day.
Early in the morning, a change of clothes was delivered to Qin Guan's cell.
Qin Guan sat on his bed, silently staring at the pile of clothes—they were his own, clothes he'd worn and stored in the wardrobe at home. Naturally, Xu Ruyi had sent them.
It was a black suit.
Qin Guan had never liked black. He'd worn too much black as a child because it hid dirt well, and black matched his filthy, broken home most harmoniously.
After growing up—to be precise, after receiving support from Xu Ruyi's parents—he never chose black again. He remembered the first time Xu's father bought him clothes and asked his color preference. He'd replied humbly and earnestly: "Anything but black is fine, Uncle. Don't worry, I'll take good care of them. I won't get them dirty."
So he never wore black again.
On his first day at the law firm, he wore a high-end grey suit gifted by Xu Ruyi. Looking at his tall, imposing figure in the mirror, he silently vowed to always dress impeccably and always stay above others.
Later, as his career gained traction, Xu Ruyi had bespoke suits made for him—one after another, all high-end brands, all expensive, all in the luxurious, understated, elegant tones he loved.
He owned many such outfits. Xu Ruyi never hesitated to spend on him. Those clothes were all ones he adored. As Qi Min and his colleagues said, they perfectly complemented his aura.
But this time, Xu Ruyi had deliberately chosen a black suit—the color she knew he hated most.
When his mother-in-law passed away, Qin Guan had hastily bought a black suit and discarded it after the funeral. When his father-in-law died suddenly, it was Qi Min who bought him this one. "You have to wear black for funeral matters. Like it or not, it's tradition!"
Yes, Xu Ruyi had been hospitalized then, utterly unable to attend to such trivialities.
After the funeral, Qin Guan had planned to throw this suit away too, but Qi Min said, "Keep it. Might be useful someday. This wasn't cheap, and besides, you look good in it."
"Might be useful someday"—those words had inexplicably struck a chord with Qin Guan. When he kept it, he'd vaguely imagined a future occasion to wear it. But he never imagined it would be for this.
When he stood in court, accused of murder.
Xu Ruyi was absolutely doing this on purpose.
By sending him this black suit he despised most, she was silently declaring his "death" and "end."
She was cursing him, mocking him, standing victoriously at the edge of the well, mercilessly trampling and humiliating him.
And he, Qin Guan, was utterly powerless to fight back.
The weather was nice.
After putting on the suit, Qin Guan was escorted by bailiffs into a vehicle heading straight for the courthouse. A crowd of reporters was already waiting at the entrance—the case had caused quite a stir in the city. Though imprisoned, Qin Guan had learned from his lawyer that many citizens were demanding harsh punishment.
"Supported by his wife's family for years, yet cheats, betrays his wife and family, kills his mistress, repays kindness with evil—if this man isn't sentenced to death, how can his in-laws rest in peace?"
"This man is a vicious wolf. He single-handedly destroyed the hope of poor young men seeking help. With his example, who would dare offer support easily? Whose daughter would dare marry a fenghuangnan?"
Victor becomes king, loser becomes bandit. Qin Guan didn't care about these voices—of course fools would say this after the fact. It was all hindsight. If he'd noticed Xu Ruyi's strangeness earlier, taken precautions, no one would have caught him today. He'd be sitting impeccably dressed in his private office at the firm—ambitious, outstanding, innocent. No one would have discovered any trace of his crimes, let alone called him an "ungrateful fenghuangnan."
Unfortunately, he'd fallen, fallen into the hands of that bitch.
Qin Guan got out of the vehicle, followed the bailiffs, and mechanically walked step by step through the throng of reporters into the courthouse—a place he'd once known best and excelled in.
Pushing open the door, everything was familiar: the packed public gallery, the imposing judge, the solemn air filling the room.
With one sweep of his eyes, he spotted the figure seated in the first row of the gallery.
The person he'd most longed to see during his imprisonment.
Xu Ruyi.
She was wearing a pale yellow blazer over a light purple floral dress. Her hair was half-tied, the rest falling loosely and smoothly over her shoulders. She wore no makeup, her face pale, slightly haggard. She'd grown thinner, looking gentle, touching, delicate and pitiful.
A wife betrayed by her husband—how pitiful.
Qin Guan gritted his teeth—this vicious, scheming bitch—this outfit was one he'd bought for her during a business trip before their marriage. When he brought it home, she'd opened the bag, covered her mouth and laughed, saying it was too dowdy. But he'd insisted, even showing her outfit pictures from Taobao: "Wear it like this! Hair tied like this too! I think it's beautiful, delicate and moving. Looks gentle and sweet, makes people want to protect you at first sight."
She'd deliberately worn that outfit today!
To evoke pity from onlookers?
Or to deliberately mock Qin Guan's outdated, lowbrow taste?
Qin Guan stood in the defendant's dock, suppressing his rage the entire time.
Barely containing it.
He barely listened to the prosecutor's statements—the case was the same old story, rehashed. The police hadn't investigated deeply, failed to find "Zeng Demei," failed to pin down Feng Zhi. They'd been played like fools by Xu Ruyi and ultimately had to conclude the case as the Lakeside Charm Hotel murder, submitting it as Xu Ruyi had planned.
They'd fallen into that bitch's trap.
So had he.
How had she done it? "Zeng Demei," Feng Zhi, and Qi Min's time of death?
Qin Guan's eyes, filled with confusion and hatred, remained fixed on Xu Ruyi's face.
The woman sat ramrod straight, unsmiling. Her expression was etched with misery, grief, grievance, sorrow, and the finality of a heart completely broken.
She played her part so well.
Wasn't this exactly how a deeply wounded wife should look?—After all these years together, Qin Guan never knew she could act so convincingly!
She'd won.
Completely won.
And himself?
The varnished wood of the courtroom's rear gallery doors shone like a mirror. Qin Guan could vaguely see his own reflection—though clad in a suit from his past, a month of torturous imprisonment had made him drastically thinner. The suit hung loosely on his frame, ill-fitting, devoid of any presence. The clean, neat hairstyle he meticulously maintained daily was gone, replaced by a short buzz cut.
His eye sockets were sunken.
He hunched over, his shackled hands hanging limply in front of his chest.
That ruthless, venomous bitch had reduced him to this state.
Xu Ruyi had risen and now stood at the witness stand, answering the prosecutor's questions. "Yes, he and Qi Min went on that business trip together. I saw him off that morning… I had no idea, how could I know my own husband was involved with his assistant…"
Her eyes reddened, and she began to weep softly.
Even now, she was still acting!
The rage Qin Guan had forcibly suppressed in his chest exploded. He could endure it no longer. Suddenly, he roared, then sprang like a leopard, lunging straight at Xu Ruyi!