Han Ruchu subconsciously halted. She turned her head and looked over at the television screen that was as large as half the wall.
There was Qiao Anhao holding a microphone and giving a self-introduction in front of everyone. Then she quietly stood at the center of the stage and started to sing.
Her voice was pure and soft. She sounded beautiful and pleasant to listen to.
Not to mention the live audience and the judges, even the two servants watching the TV were transfixed by her song.
When Qiao Anhao finished singing, the judges were obviously surprised and excited. They were always picky, but this time they surprisingly couldn't stop complimenting Qiao Anhao. The woman herself stood at the center of the stage, composed and graceful, with a smile that made her eyes curve.
That smile pierced Han Ruchu's eyes.
If it weren't for her, how could her son, Xu Jiamu, ignore her, his mother?
