Han Xi kicked the flowers over with one swift motion, her bloodshot eyes filled with a bloodthirsty rage: "From now on, I forbid you from coming here. Zhang Min, you did this on purpose, didn't you? You came here deliberately to disgust my mother."
Han Xi was right; she did do it on purpose.
"Xiao Xi, that's enough. Your aunt feels guilty towards your mother. So many years have passed. Can't you let it go?"
Han Guanghong's deep voice carried a hint of anger.
Han Xi let out a cold laugh: "Let it go? I almost have nightmares every night, dreaming of my mother lying on the ground covered in blood. Isn't it easy for you to say? Han Guanghong, you're just a bastard. Don't ever think I'll forgive you in this life."
Han Xi's voice grew louder, her emotions increasingly out of control.
