"Please, give me a way to live," Meng Jingfen pleaded, holding dearly to the satisfying marriage she had finally encountered.
Zhao Sulan stepped aside and laughed, "How else can I give you a way to live? If I really wanted to cut off your lifeline, I could just report you, or tell Meng Lingmei some things."
Meng Jingfen had nothing to say in response. She slumped to the ground and sat there for a while before suddenly having an idea, "Please, could you ask for less money? You have no idea how miserable I am right now. I've got a serious stomach illness. Although it's not immediately fatal, I need a lot of money for medicine. Otherwise, I wouldn't have lost so much weight so quickly... Please, otherwise I'll be left with no choice but death."
Zhao Sulan, "..."
Was she really sick?
