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As she walked, Zi You’s heart felt a little uncomfortable. Grandfather and uncle’s probing looks and aunt’s meaningful smile made her heart weak. It felt a bit like a thief being caught in the act.
She could ignore Wang Yiping’s vicious gaze and silent condemnation, but she could not be undisturbed in front of her grandfather and uncle.
If they know that everything tonight was a carefully designed scheme to deal with Wang Yiping, would they be disappointed in her? After all, she was only a twelve-year-old child. But her mind was so evil and despicable that people would really be unable to accept it.
But if she did not do this, the one to be destroyed would be she. It didn’t matter if she died, but what about grandfather, uncle, aunt and her cousins?
For the sake of her loved ones, Zi You, you cannot be softhearted. Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva said, “If I don’t go to hell, then who will?” Let me go to hell then.
Zi You gritted her teeth and her footsteps towards Mu YingRui’s study grew firmer.
Mu YingRui carried Shui YouLian into the study. He put her on top of the bed he usually took rest on.
Shui YouLian had slightly closed eyes and slightly opened lips while lying on the bed. She was incessantly gasping. Her body was trembling, like weak and helpless leaves in the wind. A pair of long eyelashes, like a row of fans, projected under her eyelids.
Two small tears like crystal-clear crystals were congealed on the white-as-snow skin of her small face.
Because they were in close proximity, one could smell the faint, fresh mint smell from her mouth.
A pair of snow peaks tightly bound under the translucent red sari was faintly discernible. They were undulating up and down with her shortness of breath, like a pair of fire-red balls.