"You don't have to pretend, putting on such a democratic facade. Xiao Xian isn't close to our family, so even if I ask, it's pointless. Who knows if you've been inciting her behind our backs, badmouthing our family," Zhuo Feng said angrily, slamming the teacup down onto the table with force.
"I have never mentioned her parents in front of Xiao Xian, and even to this day, she thinks they have just gone on a long trip," this was completely wishful thinking on Zhu Shijun's part. Maybe a ten-year-old Xiao Xian could still be kept in the dark, but Xiao Xian, who is already twenty, certainly wouldn't think so.
She knew that Xiao Xian's parents had died and was also aware that under Zhu Shijun's pillow was a photo of "her" taken at full month old. The woman in the photo with the gentle eyes and the man who smiles so innocently were her biological parents in this lifetime.
