"Come out, come out!" Xu Ai rarely calls Tang Ying "mom." After she turned fourteen, she hardly ever used that term.
After calling for a while without a response, and with the hallway too dark, Xu Ai stepped out of the building to wait by the street. She took a deep breath, as many images flashed through her mind: Tang Ying twisting her ear, calling her a wretched child, cursing that without her, she would be a rich housewife. These scenes flashed vividly in her mind.
She closed her eyes deeply, feeling immense pain.
"Oh, you wretched child, soaring high and becoming a phoenix, yet having the audacity to come back to the place where you were born. It's truly rare, aren't you afraid your noble feet might get dirty?" Tang Ying's voice carried a trace of sarcasm.
Beside her stood a tall, sturdy man, with a thick gold chain around his neck, smoking a cigarette, looking like a thug; still very young, probably under thirty, he asked gruffly, "Who's this chick, quite a looker."
