Jiang Lan was startled by her husband.
Looking at Song Huaizhong who resembled Satan from the eighteenth layer of hell, she slightly opened her mouth, wanting to persuade him, yet not daring to do so.
She knew that this time, her daughter had crossed the line too much.
Even she herself was infuriated after seeing those photos, let alone her husband who always valued face above all else.
So, she didn't dare to advise, nor did she know how to.
"..." Probably not expecting her father to be so hard-handed, Song Anqi covered half of her burning face, stunned on the spot.
After a long time, she finally came to her senses.
Tears gradually welled up in her exquisitely outlined black eyes.
"Dad, do you know why I always had to compete with Song Yinyin back then, why I had to fight with her? Whatever she studied, I studied; whatever she excelled at, I had to excel too. I did all this because of Mom!"
"..."
