Qin Churou couldn't believe it. "Jiajia, you don't trust me?"
"Trust anyone, but never trust you, Qin Churou." Cornered, Zhao Jia decided to cut all pretense. "Qin Churou, stop acting in front of me. I've followed you closely for a long time. Do you think I don't know what kind of person you really are?"
Qin Churou's expression gradually turned cold.
"You, Qin Churou, are nothing but a perfect example of a white lotus flower—pretending to be gentle and generous in front of others, but secretly hoping that those who oppose you suffer," Zhao Jia continued, her tone sharp and unrelenting.
"It was you who incited me to send those thugs to threaten Qin Sheng, wasn't it? You hate her for being prettier, smarter, and outshining you in the monthly exams, even taking the first place that was supposed to be yours. And now she's competing in the national math contest, which you lost the only chance to participate in because of her."
