"..." Mo Qiansu's heart ached dully as she asked, her voice hoarse, "Mom, must you push me so hard? Do you also want to drive me to my death?!"
"If a fire four years ago didn't kill you, how could I possibly drive you to your death?!" Murong Qiong laughed scornfully to the extreme.
The pain was as if a knife were piercing her heart, perhaps no worse than that.
Mo Qiansu's fingers clenched tightly, her heart aching so much she gasped for breath.
When she was young, her mother had always been distant and indifferent to her. She even doubted whether she was her mother's child. Her father would always comfort her, saying that she was certainly the fruit of their love, and instructed her not to overthink it.
The features of Mo Qiansu resembled her father's more. Genetics can be so miraculous and powerful, beyond doubt, she was definitely her father's biological daughter.
