Life in the slums was too miserable.
These penniless and dejected days were torturous for the once pampered Duan mother and daughter.
However, compared to such a torture, what was more unbearable for them was to be trampled by the dirtiest and lowest people whom they could not even spare a glance to.
Zhan Jia 'er's face was ferocious. Her originally exquisitely sculpted socialite face had long been replaced by a bloody mess.
This face made her cry, but it also allowed her to protect herself indirectly. At least with this face, those disgusting and filthy vagrants would be more willing to trample on Duan xiuhui's delicate skin and tender flesh, who still had her charm.
Duan xiuhui, who had always been protecting Zhan Jia 'er, finally realized what kind of animal she was protecting.
She finally understood why Zhan Yang would rather save Zhan mo, who had betrayed him, than accept Zhan Jia 'er as his successor.
