Song Xiaorou felt a chill run down her spine at her mother's words, thinking of Zhou Minshi's future locked behind iron bars, away from the sun and sky, and an involuntary shiver raked through her, her back slick with cold sweat.
At the same time, she couldn't suppress her envy of Lu Qingqing's good fortune.
What a blessed life, indeed, with wealth and the protection of everyone, it seemed unlikely that anyone would dare to disrespect her ever again.
Wu Yanmei glanced at her sidelong, "What's there to be envious of? Being reborn is a skill, she is her, and you are you. You envy her, but who's to say there aren't many who envy you, envy that you were born into wealth and will never have to worry about food or clothing for the rest of your life?"
"Yes, yes, you're right!" Song Xiaorou actually found it made a lot of sense; she indeed was the envy of eighty percent of people, a proper wealthy beauty who was the object of their envy and resentment.
