Lying in bed, Xia Lu tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep no matter what, and eventually sat up in frustration.
She felt a tightness in her chest, and the words she had argued with Zhou Mingchen earlier that evening still echoed in her ears, lingering on.
"If you're short of money, you could have just asked me," Zhou Mingchen looked at her, "Isn't the status of being Mrs. Zhou enough to satisfy your pursuit of money and fame? Must you find a way to compensate for your childhood deficiencies?"
When he said this, there was no malice, he just spoke whatever was on his mind without considering how the listener would feel.
Xia Lu couldn't believe that he had once again said such things to her.
Childhood deficiencies—these words heavily struck her heart.
True, her childhood did lack a father figure, but she never felt her childhood was incomplete or flawed. If people hadn't kept reminding her, she might not even feel that way now.
