Daughter?
The other person's mocking tone deepened.
Vigilance was heavy, completely distrustful of Sui Yuan.
But Sui Yuan was convinced—this was her mother. She hurriedly tried to recall their shared memories.
"Mom, you graduated from Qing University, and you have a photo taken at Qing University. Do you remember?"
"I also have an older brother. When I was five years old, you died in an accident... Now I'm twenty-one."
"And, you once gave me a protective charm. I still have it to this day!"
At this moment, in a room separated from Sui Yuan by two others, a middle-aged woman leaned weakly against the edge of a bed, her figure emaciated.
Her unkempt hair hung on her shoulders, tangled and coated with dust, some strands already knotted.
Her simple, dull clothing bore the marks of time.
She looked like she was gravely ill, almost to the point where the words "barely clinging to life" might describe her state.
