"Jian Qing, what exactly are you trying to do?" Zhao Xuan pulls An Yu behind her, standing stiffly as she looks at Jian Qing, a faint hint of tension hiding in the depths of her eyes.
Jian Qing crosses her arms, raises an eyebrow, and smirks. "What are you nervous about? Or do you have a guilty conscience because of your misdeeds, hmm?"
Zhao Xuan's body tenses up, her grip on An Yu unconsciously tightening. An Yu winces in pain.
"Mommy, you're hurting me."
Upon hearing her daughter in pain, Zhao Xuan reflexively loosens her grip, trying to hide her inner turmoil. "Jian Qing, enough of your nonsense. This is the An Family mansion, even if the old master spoils you, you cannot act willfully."
Jian Qing smirks coldly, turning around to sit on the sofa.
