"Su Zhiruan! You dare to stop your grandmother?! Have you grown bold, you losing proposition?!" The old crone with the gray headscarf cursed out loud, struggling to break free from Su Zhiruan's grip, shaking her wrist, and glaring fiercely at her, "You two little harlots! Daddy's gone, and you're following outsiders, aren't you afraid of finding a stepfather who'll grind you to death?!"
Her curses were vile, insinuating much with her words. Li Meihua had always been timid, and at this point, she was even less daring to speak out. She simply lowered her head and stood behind Su Zhiruan.
