Zhuang Xian had been silently enduring this tiredness with no one to share her feelings with. She had been suppressing the hatred in her bones and blood, but she could not express it!
This hatred was like a wound in Zhuang Xian's heart that had turned into pus. Before she could decide to cut open the wound, drain the pus and blood inside, and clean the wound again, this hatred was like a parasite that would forever suck Zhuang Xian's mind and energy. Others could not see it, but it would always take root. Only Zhuang Xian would feel the pain and torture.
Even when Zhuang Xian was relaxed and happy, it would turn into a nightmare that would make Zhuang Xian afraid. It would repeatedly shatter Zhuang Xian's calm surface, just like what would happen next.
Zhuang Xian leaned back on the car seat. She looked tired and fragile. Her mother and two brothers would chat from time to time in the car. The atmosphere was very reassuring for Zhuang Xian.
