Chapter 205 False Relationship

Even if they manage to escape from prison one day, they can forget about ever living a decent life again.

People would look at her with strange eyes, gossip behind her back, and nail her to the pillar of shame so that she could never rise again.

She didn't want to be like the Jiang family, hiding in the shadows for the rest of her life, living in the dark like rats that couldn't see the light, barely surviving.

If she's going to live, she'll live to be the one at the very top.

Standing above all others, looking down upon all living beings, and controlling destiny.

She had long since abandoned all conscience in preparation for this day.

Those so-called morals, kinship, and conscience were crushed by her own hands and buried in the ruins of her memory.

She absolutely cannot lose here.

She had to win this round, even if it meant bloodshed.

She has connections and influence in Country D.

They had been secretly planning this for years, just waiting for this day to come.

Once you escape there and obtain asylum status, you can start over.

Starting from scratch isn't scary; what's scary is not having a chance.

She had already paved her way out.

Without much thought, Sheng Tingzhou's temple throbbed with anger, but he forced himself to suppress it and blurted out, "Okay, when will you release Yan Yan? I promise you, but you have to guarantee her safety."

"Wait until I safely set foot on the territory of Country D."

Song Xiaoxiao sneered, her eyes as cold as ice. "Sheng Tingzhou, you have no choice. Don't forget, she's carrying your child. If you try anything funny, I don't mind sending her and your unborn child to hell together."

Sheng Tingzhou's eyes darkened, his pupils contracted sharply, and his fingers trembled slightly, but he quickly regained his composure.

He immediately pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and said in a cold, hard voice: "Listen, drive the car to the main gate, put the key in the ignition, and don't send anyone to follow you."

Song Xiaoxiao grabbed Song Zhiwei's arm with such force that she almost broke her bones, and dragged her out.

Song Zhiwei staggered a few steps, her face pale, but she did not struggle.

The reporters who had initially surrounded the area were now terrified and scattered, none daring to approach.

The flashes stopped abruptly, leaving only a deathly silence.

She drove unimpeded, roughly pushing Song Zhiwei into the back seat of the car without any mercy.

The car door slammed shut, and she jumped into the driver's seat, locked the door, and scanned her surroundings warily.

With a throttle input, the car shot forward, the tires screeching against the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust.

In the rearview mirror, Sheng Tingzhou's figure gradually shrank, yet he remained standing still, like a silent statue.

She glanced sideways at the passenger seat, her voice like a knife, cutting into Song Zhiwei word by word: "Why did you have to come back? Those things should have belonged to me! If you hadn't appeared in front of me, I would have been the real heiress of the Song family, Sheng Tingzhou's rightful wife! You stole all of this from me!"

Song Zhiwei gazed at the street scene rushing past ahead, the wind ruffling her hair, but her tone was surprisingly calm: "All these years, have you really understood Mom and Dad? Do you really understand what they're thinking?"

Song Xiaoxiao frowned, a hint of anger and confusion flashing in her eyes.

She gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white, but she didn't immediately object.

"If you had really looked into it carefully, you would know that Dad is fair and impartial. You are an adopted daughter, and he has never mistreated you. He supported your education, gave you a proper status, and even let you participate in family affairs. As for Mom... is her coldness towards you really because you don't have the surname Song? Or is it because you have never truly entered her heart?"

Song Xiaoxiao gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force, her nails almost digging into the leather.

She gritted her teeth, forcing out the words, "What do you know? You know nothing!"

“When I had amnesia, in Country S, my mother talked to me about you.”

Song Zhiwei said softly, "She said you're not what she imagined. Have you ever thought about whether some things you've done have revealed your true colors?"

The air was cold, and the night wind blew in through the window, causing her hair to flutter slightly.

Song Zhiwei's voice was not loud, but it was like a fine needle, slowly piercing into the depths of memory.

Her gaze was calm, as if she were telling a story that had nothing to do with her.

But his tone revealed an undisguised pain and questioning.

Her mother once sat by her hospital bedside, holding her hand, and told her, word by word, "Xiaoxiao is not a simple girl."

And this sentence has now become the key to uncovering the truth.

Song Xiaoxiao was silent for a few seconds, then a cold smile appeared on her lips: "So what if I insulted a poor girl back in high school? I was telling the truth! A prestigious school like that doesn't deserve her! No matter how much trouble she causes, she's just a worm. The sooner she gets out, the cleaner she'll be!"

Her voice was sharp, carrying the arrogance cultivated from long-term high position.

Every word was like a poisoned knife, thrown out mercilessly.

Her eyes were cold and indifferent, without even a flicker of emotion, as if the girl who was publicly humiliated back then was nothing more than a speck of dust, not worth remembering.

But deep down, that outburst wasn't just due to a sense of superiority; it was because she knew that behind that girl lay a secret powerful enough to shake her world.

Yang Shurui happened to overhear it that day.

The light at the end of the corridor was dim, and the mother's figure stood there quietly, holding a cup of warm milk in her hand.

Her face was as pale as paper, and her lips trembled slightly.

At that moment, looking at her daughter, she felt an unprecedented sense of estrangement.

At seventeen, a time when one should be innocent and carefree, Song Xiaoxiao's words were colder and more ruthless than those of an adult.

Yang Shurui loosened her grip, and the glass shattered on the floor, the sound breaking the silence in the hallway.

She couldn't stand that her seventeen-year-old daughter was so mean.

My heart felt like it was being gripped tightly by an invisible hand, the pain making it hard to breathe.

She recalled the promise made outside the delivery room, and the hardships of raising her child alone all those years.

She thought family love could melt away all obstacles, but reality was like ice water poured over her head.

She began to doubt whether the child truly belonged to her.

Was this mother-daughter relationship built on a false foundation from the very beginning?

Every night before I fall asleep, these words echo in my ears, like a nightmare that I can't shake off.

From then on, she began repeating over and over again, "You are not my biological child."

At first it was just a soft murmur, but it later turned into an emotional breakdown and accusation.

This phrase would slip out whenever Song Xiaoxiao acted indifferent or willful.

She wasn't sure what the truth was, but once the words left her mouth, they took root and sprouted like seeds.

When Song Xiaoxiao heard this, she was neither shocked nor made a fuss. She just gave her a cold look and then turned and left.

That indifference is more chilling than any rebuttal.

"Then what right do you have to blame others?"

Song Zhiwei raised her hand and touched the dried blood on her face. "Every step you took was your own choice."

Her movements were slow, her fingertips gently brushing against the old scars on her cheek.

The blood had long since congealed, its color dark, like a mark etched by fate.

She looked at Song Xiaoxiao, her gaze no longer showing the timidity of the past, but instead filled with clarity and compassion.