Jiang Muwan hooked her lips, "If you raise it, you might still have some hope, but if you don't, there's no hope at all."
"I think if we don't bring it up, we can still leave with some dignity, as if nothing happened. If we do, we're just struggling on our deathbeds," someone said resentfully, their words tinged with anger.
Muwan smiled, glanced at her empty teacup, and beside her, Fu Jing understood and went out with the cup.
When she came back in, Jiang Muwan's cool voice rang out, "I am merciful. Considering that all of you are founders of Huazhong, I still found you a place to go. If I were not merciful, you'd probably have nowhere to go."
Muwan's cold gaze swept over everyone in the room. Her slender fingertips fell on the table, tapping slowly. Her casual demeanor seemed cavalier.