Ye Duowei waited until her grandmother left before finally exhaling deeply. Yet, a heavy sense of disparity rose in her heart. If this had happened in the past, it wouldn't even count as a matter worth mentioning, right? Wasn't it just a vase? Twenty thousand yuan—it used to be the price of a new handbag for her.
Tian Yaruo saw her daughter deep in thought and really wanted to lecture her a bit, but when she noticed the redness and swelling on her face, she dropped the idea.
"Weiwei! You've seen it now, haven't you? This is the power of money! If our Ye Family hadn't fallen and was still the same as before, would your aunt have dared to hit you? Even if you accidentally broke a vase, so what? Who would seriously make you pay for it? Even your grandfather wouldn't have said 'no.'"
