She truly hated him.
Lu Moqing... on what grounds did he humiliate her like that!
Qiao Xu fiercely clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, drawing blood. Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle, water-like voice—
"Xuxu, are you back?"
In the garden, a middle-aged woman with an elegant hairstyle and a light purple cheongsam held a pair of scissors, trimming potted plants.
Her demeanor was graceful, gentle, and generous; every word and action exuded an air of dignity.
"Mom."
Qiao Xu forced a smile and gave the woman a big hug, pushing back the sadness in her eyes.
"Go rest inside the house first. Aunt Lin has prepared lots of delicious food for you."
Lin Jingshu smiled warmly, just like the origin of her name—
A quiet girl with an admirable appearance, awaiting me at the city corner.
Qiao Xu's mother, Lin Jingshu, was a virtuous, elegant, and gentle woman with a beautiful temperament.
