"You know very well whether I have made things up." Su Qianci glanced at her coldly.
Tang Mengying saw her eyes and suddenly felt nervous. At that moment, something seemed to come out of Su Qianci's eyes and pierced her.
It was hatred!
The hatred was as thick as blood and sunk deep into the bones. However, when Tang Mengying looked again, what she saw was gone. It was as if everything was just an illusion.
Or was it?
Su Qianci held back the urge to tear Tang Mengying apart and said calmly, "Mr. Ai's wife is Arabic and her name meant happiness, so every time he finished a garment, he would leave the signature inside the collar, which was happiness in Arabic."
"Bluffing! You know Arabic?" Mrs. Tang scoffed.
"Check it to see if I am bluffing." Su Qianci held the collar up.
Seeing the black letters on it, Mrs. Tang immediately said, "It is no more than simple embroidery. How can you prove that it is Arabic?"
