"Slap!"
The loud sound of a slap echoed in the quiet living room, and everyone's breath seemed to stop.
Cheng Shihong's raised hand came down, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes became more pronounced with anger, her voice was warm with rage, "You've got some nerve, daring to act on your own initiative."
Zhao Ying's head was slapped to one side, a red handprint quickly appeared on her pale face, but she didn't dare to even touch it, directly kneeling on the floor.
Tears rolled down one after another, dripping from her chin onto the expensive wooden floor, not because of pain, but out of fear.
Her voice was choked and trembling, "Madam... I know I was wrong... I beg you to give me another chance..."
"Give you a chance?" Cheng Shihong sneered, as if she didn't even think it worth looking at her.
She walked to the sofa, sat down, and picked up the teacup to take a sip of tea, "If you can make heaven give my grandson another life, I'll give you another chance."
