Xu Qinghuan looked at her indifferently; in her eyes, Song Wanlin undoubtedly seemed mad.
No one was there, the care in Song Wanlin's eyes faded, and she scrutinized Xu Qinghuan with a critical gaze, only realizing that she didn't really know her daughter.
Every year, she'd have someone take a photo of Xu Qinghuan. Each time she got the photo, she'd look at it many times carefully. But the girl before her, and the one in the photo, seemed like two entirely different people.
They were the closest, yet most distant, mother and daughter in the world.
Song Wanlin had a moment of bewilderment, but upon looking again, it was indeed the person from the photo.
"Break off the engagement with that rural brute; I'll help you choose a better match than Jiang Chengxu. Are you planning to stay in the countryside and farm forever? You and he are not the same kind of people. Finding someone like that is simply self-imposed degradation!" Song Wanlin said coldly.
