"Ten years, living in that rotten thatched hut for ten years, with our family starving yet not dying, and frequently facing insult and abuse. That's all I saw." Qiao Xiaomai spoke, her eyes narrowing into a resentful glare as she directed them at Sun Junyan.
Yes, even though it was not her who lived in that body for the past ten years, the memories of the original owner's painful days now sparked rage in her heart.
The flame grew more potent, eventually transforming into hatred.
"We're feeding our uncle's schooling with our family's blood and sweat. If you wish to support him, go ahead, but I, Qiao Xiaomai, refuse. Look at your legs, think of our mother, and tell me how many peaceful days have we lived before you softened and thought about helping our uncle?"
"He wouldn't be unable to study just because of this six hundred wen. He could save it easily by dressing in fewer silk clothes and entertaining his schoolmates less."
