"Skillful Hand Hall" truly deserves its reputation—the herbs they sell are top-notch, both in age and appearance.
Sarah Sullivan took the herbs, and as soon as she stepped out the door, her phone rang.
Seeing the name on the screen, Sarah's face was expressionless as she hung up directly.
But the other side was relentless, calling again.
Sarah impatiently swiped to answer, and Lara Kemnis's cold, disdainful voice came immediately: "Sarah, you're getting more and more out of line! Caused such a scene at home and then just walked out for peace and quiet? Do you know how angry you've made your father? Get back here and apologize! If you don't admit your mistake, your allowance ends this month! Don't expect another cent from the Sullivan Family!"
Lara was probably on speakerphone—the background was noisy, obviously with other people around her.
A mocking smile crept up on Sarah's lips. "Whatever. From now on, I'll make my own money. No need for you to bother."
"Make your own money? What a joke! Without the Sullivan Family's protection, with your degree, the only jobs you can get in Huston are washing dishes or collecting trash—pathetic jobs. Otherwise, you'll just starve to death!"
That was Edward Sullivan speaking.
Sarah was his biological daughter.
But Edward's words dripped with bitterness, every line intended to belittle and humiliate, as if he couldn't wait to grind Sarah's dignity into the dirt and leave it utterly worthless.
"Don't worry, Mr. Sullivan. Even if I become a beggar, it'll never be at your family's doorstep." Sarah replied indifferently.
"Ha! Sarah, stop pretending to have backbone in front of me. If you really had any, would you have come begging for so much money before? Thirty million! Greedy, utterly shameless! Let me tell you, the Sullivan Family has money, but not a cent will ever be thrown to a beggar like you!" Edward sneered viciously.
This sort of moment, Nora Sullivan might show up late, but she was never absent.
Sure enough, her simpering, fake-concerned voice chimed in right on cue: "Dad, don't say that. Sarah was just tricked by someone. She's not actually a bad person."
"Hmph!"
Edward snorted coldly, "Nora, you're just too naïve, too innocent! You don't understand—nothing is more treacherous than the human heart! Haven't you heard the saying, 'the poorest places breed the nastiest people'? She and her foster father Thompson are as thick as thieves, scheming against our family! From now on, stay away from this ungrateful brat, so she doesn't lead you astray."
Edward's words grew harsher and harsher—he wanted nothing more than to wound Sarah to her core.
But Sarah wasn't hurt. Nor was she sad.
It's like hearing a dog barking on the street. Would you suddenly get all wistful over that?
Of course not. It's just annoying noise.
"Are you done? If so, I'm hanging up," she said coolly.
"What's with that attitude? Don't tell me you'll never repent!" Edward roared.
"If you die, I'll change."
Sarah hung up the phone without hesitation.
...
Today's weather was nice. Sarah gazed off at the blue sky and white clouds, letting out a light sigh.
She used to believe the saying, "There's no such thing as bad parents."
But after meeting her biological father and mother, she realized that was a complete lie.
Some people just happen to have children—they're not the least bit qualified to be anyone's parents.
"Sir, please, help my mommy…"
A young child's voice pulled Sarah's mind back from memory to reality.
She looked up to see, at the entrance of the lavish "True Elegance" cosmetic surgery center, a cute little girl of maybe five or six in pigtails, pitifully pleading with a middle-aged man who stood high above her at the door.
But the man's face was all annoyance as he waved her off and snapped harshly, "Enough! Get lost! Don't get in the way of my business! I'm warning you—if you come here causing trouble again, I'll call the cops and have you locked up, see if you like eating prison food!"
The little girl recoiled in fear.
Her father hurried to hold her close and looked at the man: "Rosedale, you can't do this! You promised to treat my wife, but now that this has happened, you refuse to take any responsibility. Isn't there anywhere left in the world for justice?"
As he spoke, the man's voice shook with emotion.
But Rosedale, hands clasped behind his back and scowling, said, "What now? Trying to extort me? Let me tell you, I pay top lawyers tens of thousands a year to keep parasites like you from taking advantage! I've already done all I can for your family! Come back here again, and you'll regret it!"
Rosedale glanced back at the masked woman behind them and said with biting sarcasm, "Your wife wasn't any beauty to begin with. Who's to blame for how she looks now? If you can accept her ugly face, live with it. If not, divorce her and marry someone else, or hire a prostitute for your needs. Big deal! What are you putting on this melodramatic performance for?"
He was about to leave when his eyes suddenly lit up—he'd seen Sarah Sullivan.
Though Sarah still wore a hoodie that day, her hood wasn't pulled too far forward, so from Rosedale's vantage point, he could clearly see all her features.
He was the director of a plastic surgery clinic, maker of dozens of beauties.
But Sarah's looks… even Rosedale was struck speechless.
Was this natural?
Could someone really be born so flawless?
Even the harshest gaze couldn't find a single flaw.
That so-called once-in-a-millennium beauty from showbiz, compared to this girl, would look like just some kitchen maid—rough and unrefined, totally inferior.
She must've had work done!
But where were the scars?
He couldn't spot a thing!
Did she go to H Nation to get work from top surgeons?
That's the only way to trick everyone's eyes, so natural and perfect.
Excited, Rosedale hurried over to Sarah, beaming. "Miss, would you like to be our clinic's spokesperson? Don't worry, you name the price! I, Benjamin Rosedale, am always generous!"
He was already fantasizing—if this once-in-a-millennium beauty would model for them and say her surgery was done at "True Elegance", their doors would be trampled down by new customers.
He could already picture counting piles of money until his hands cramped up!
"Miss, don't let him trick you! He's not a good person! He swindled us by promising my wife free cosmetic surgery in exchange for publicity, and as soon as we helped, he turned his back on us!"
The little girl's father protested angrily from the side.
"David Engweil, another word out of you and my lawyer will sue for defamation and bankrupt your family!"
Director Benjamin Rosedale's expression grew vicious.
"David, let's just go. We can't fight these people. Forget about my face," the masked woman spoke for the first time.
"Honey, I'm sorry I'm so useless—can't even get justice after being played for fools! But don't worry. If it doesn't work here, we'll try another clinic. And if not, we'll go overseas! I swear—even if I lose everything, I'll get your face healed!"
David Engweil swore.