In the end, Lu Yumei let out a somewhat relieved sigh of a smile, with even a hint of a wry, speechless grin to it.
"Zhao Han, this life, who knows what might happen on any given day, right? Look at your little sister, hehe, the distance between her and us just keeps getting wider! I kept saying, how come she's been out of touch for so long without a word—turns out, she went off to be a princess… Do you think she still remembers me, this mother, and you, this older sister?"
To put it bluntly, deep down Lu Yumei was still someone born and raised in the Great East Pot, who grew up here, came of age here, went through family and officialdom here; her experience was rich, but the traditional stuff in her bones wasn't something that could be changed overnight.
Since ancient times, ordinary people's fawning over power has always existed.
Of course, ordinary people's longing for power has also always existed.
