Mo Yu sighed, "If only Mo Chen were half as sensible as you."
Her son was like he was raised by Ye Jiuliang, always siding with others instead of his own family.
Upon hearing this, Mo Su's expression remained faint.
With Mo Chen not around, Mo Yu didn't hold back and asked about the injury on her wrist, "What happened to your wrist?"
"Ye Jiuliang." Mo Su's eyes turned slightly cold, the sprained wrist still faintly aching.
Mo Su's face suddenly became unsightly, her tone darkening, "Did Ye Jiuliang hurt you?"
Mo Su nodded, acknowledging it.
"What exactly happened?" Mo Yu pressed.
Mo Su explained the whole story succinctly, and Mo Yu's face grew increasingly grim.
"Never thought Ye Jiuliang, that wretched girl, would be so cunning."
She furrowed her brows fiercely, "Is there really no hope with Li Mochan?"
