Ye Bingtong's expression stiffened for a moment as she turned her head incredulously and then saw a woman with graying hair and a face full of wrinkles. This woman appeared to be at least in her sixties or seventies, with patches on her clothes that screamed one word: poverty.
Now, the woman rushed toward her excitedly.
Behind the woman, there was a hunchbacked man, assessing the hospital room with a calculating gaze.
"Bingtong, my daughter!" the woman lunged forward.
No one stopped her.
The woman embraced Ye Bingtong.
Click click click.
The flashbulbs burst frantically.
The reporters had completely forgotten that they were initially briefed to try and portray Ye Bingtong in a positive light.
Now.
They had only one thought in their minds.
Spectacle! Spectacle! Spectacle!
The plot was becoming more thrilling as it unfolded, and they were getting addicted to watching the drama unfold before their eyes.
Ye Bingtong was nearly going insane.
Who is this?!
