People all around were starting to stare. Some whispered among themselves, while others frowned and looked away.
She didn't care about the stares. All she felt was a roiling tide of frustration and anger.
"What are you doing? You're enjoying this, aren't you? You just love to see me make a fool of myself, right?"
Her voice rose, sharp with accusation.
Her chest heaved violently, as if she were about to scream out all her pent-up dissatisfaction.
She stared daggers at Ling Xueshan, the rims of her eyes turning red, but she stubbornly refused to show any weakness.
"You've really got a problem."
Ling Zhiwei frowned, pulling his sister back two steps to stand in front of her.
His face was a mask of impatience, his gaze as cold as ice.
The more people gathered to watch, the less he wanted to explain anything.
This kind of pointless entanglement was just a waste of their time.
