No wonder, no wonder someone as henpecked as An Youcai, facing Sun Xuehui's tough stance, would adopt me. Is it guilt towards my mother? Or has his conscience woken up?
No wonder my age was falsely reported by two years.
Thinking again of An Youcai's look of remorse and guilt, An Ran found it all so laughable.
A father who would adopt his biological daughter but could only appear as a foster father in front of her, a father who let his wife lock their three or four-year-old daughter in an attic without intervening, a father who abandoned her in the countryside for twelve years without a word.
If not for his heartless abandonment, how could my mother have died in childbirth? If not for his cowardice and incompetence, how could I have been sold to old men by Sun Xuehui like a commodity?
At this moment, all the protection from An Youcai, which I was so grateful for back then, and his love driven from remorse and guilt, were slowly being overshadowed by the surging hatred.
