Shen Weiwei's face flushed red, her eyes brimming with hurt, yet she spoke in a gentle and calm voice, "Chenhuan, why do you have to debase yourself like this? No matter how angry you are, you can't make a joke of your own reputation."
"Listen to your sister and let's go home together."
I couldn't help but find it laughable. Her father had already done those things to me and my parents—how could these matters just be so readily turned over a new leaf?
With a mere clapping of the lips, she turned me into a sharp-tongued, unreasonable brat of a sister.
Then she turned to Zhao Jihui beside her, her face full of apology as she spoke, "Huanhuan has been spoiled at home, so if she's done something wrong, I'll apologize on her behalf. I hope you can forgive her."
Suddenly, I felt annoyed and disinterested. Everyone present was shrewd; everyone knew that Shen Weiwei was deliberately oppressing and belittling me under the guise of affection.
