An Yan pointed at the wounds on her daughter's body: "Didn't you hear? Zhong Sheng is sick!"
She lowered her voice when she said this.
An Yan felt heartache looking at her daughter's wounds: "You're not even married yet, and he's already hitting you! What will you do in the future?"
An Wen placed her other intact hand under the quilt, clenching it tightly.
Her complexion was still a bit pale, but her tone was extremely firm: "So what?"
She raised her head to look at An Yan, with a gleam in her eyes that An Yan couldn't understand: "If I marry him, I'll be the Young Madam of the Zhong Family. I'll have endless money, be able to buy anything I want, and no one will ever mock me for being a wild bird trying to perch on high branches..."
Her eyes were bright, but her tone grew increasingly intense: "This is my chance, Mom! Now I realize, if Zhong Sheng didn't have this illness, I wouldn't even have the chance to marry him!"
