Han Qingqing's eyes gradually flashed a trace of displeasure: "Wan'an, I really don't understand why you are targeting me so aggressively? Yes, Xiaoxiao was in danger twice, and I was present both times, but Xiaoxiao is my daughter, what's wrong with going to see her at Zhang Te's? Besides, Xiaoxiao came from my own flesh, according to you, am I, as a mother, supposed to kill my own child? Ask the other mothers here, who would be so cruel to their own children?!"
Faced with Han Qingqing's bold and confident interrogation, Xia Wan'an's tone became much more serious: "Yes, what you said is correct, but the premise is, you must be her mother."
As soon as Xia Wan'an said this, the people present were even more shocked.
"What?"
"What do you mean you must be her mother?"
"Does this mean that Han Qingqing isn't Han Yixiao's mother?"
"..."
Amidst the chaos, Han Qingqing seemed to have heard a funny joke and smiled with curled lips: "Wan'an, you really have a knack for joking."
