"Guo Cuihua," Zhuang Jingshu could hardly maintain her composure, shrieking, "When did I ever mention Chuxia?"
She looked at Mother Lin, her eyes filled with overwhelming anger, trembling with rage.
Even at this point, she still refused to admit it.
In pursuit of her biological daughter's wealth and glory, she abandoned all dignity, relentlessly slandering Chuxia.
What kind of life has Chuxia been living these past twenty-some years?
"If not her, who else could have said this to you?"
Mother Lin increasingly felt that Lin Chuxia was behind it all.
That little brat was very sly; someone as rich as Zhuang Jingshu—could she let her go?
If she could truly let her go, she wouldn't have gotten her to finance the construction of a factory.
Zhuang Jingshu laughed coldly, glancing towards the courtyard gate.
By this time, many elders from Daqing Mountain Village had gathered at the entrance.
This was exactly the outcome she wanted.
