Yan Xixi heaved a big sigh.
She never imagined she would one day fight Huang Ma—her scalp still throbbed faintly with pain. Back then, after her aunt kicked her to the ground, Huang Ma had viciously pulled her hair. It was much later that she discovered a large clump of her hair had been torn out. That patch of scalp was now a bloody scab. It hurt whenever a comb touched it and even when she accidentally rested her head on the pillow.
If she had been clear-headed, she never would have fought Huang Ma. At the time, she must have been delirious from the pain, consumed by a sudden rage. She had seen red, attacking blindly, not even sparing Huang Ma when she grabbed a stool and brought it down.
Fortunately, Huang Ma had dodged quickly, suffering only minor injuries. Otherwise, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
"Miss, do you regret your actions?"
She hugged her knees, phone in hand. Regret?
