There is a lab report on the table.
Tang Yaoyao glanced at her and said, "You have late-stage stomach cancer and a son with the mental age of ten. I finally understand why you were abandoned by your husband's family and fled abroad."
Upon hearing this, tears welled up in the widow's eyes. Her fatal wound had been reopened, and all the bitterness she had felt surged forth.
"What's it to you? I didn't do anything. Don't frame me. If you dare touch me again, I'll sue you and make you pay compensation!"
Tang Yaoyao sneered: "Oh, trying to stage an accident?"
“I have video footage of your son hitting my fiancé’s car. Guess who will suffer if we go to the police station, or your son?”
The widow froze, then glanced at A-Qiang, who was standing there dumbfounded, crying again, his eyes red, his nose running, looking filthy.
She clenched her fists in disgust and said coldly, "Then take him away. He's not my son, he has nothing to do with me. He did something wrong, but that has nothing to do with me. Lock him up in the police station and don't let him out. He'll only drag me down!"
Ah Qiang didn't care at all what the widow was saying. Perhaps he had heard it often and was used to it. He just wiped his nose with his sleeve and muttered, "I won't let anyone bully you, Mom. I will protect you!"
Watching Ah Qiang protect his mother, the widow remained indifferent and completely unmoved.
The wildflowers on the ground, the Mother's Day gift prepared by the madman, seemed to have become a joke.
"Mom, are you feeling better? Are you still in pain? Mom, if only A-Qiang were grown up, you wouldn't have to work so hard!" A-Qiang cried and wiped away his tears, as he could help his mother with many things.
The widow was initially indifferent, but her heart wasn't made of iron; Ah-Qiang's words touched her.
Ah-Qiang's mental age is only ten years old.
She pursed her lips, tears welling up, suppressing her breakdown, then turned her head away, refusing to look at A-Qiang's face.
A mother and child are connected by blood.
A-Qiang is an idiot, and he is also her son.
"I'll fight you to the death! I'll fight you to the death! No one is allowed to hurt my mother!"
Suddenly, A-Qiang stood up, rolled up his sleeves, and bumped into Tang Yaoyao.
Fortunately, Jiang Ci was in front of him and kicked A-Qiang away.
A-Qiang was hit and fell to the ground.
To prevent him from attacking anyone again, Jiang Ci stepped on his shoulder and pressed his head down.
Ah-Qiang struggled on the ground, screaming in pain.
The widow's heart tightened, her face turned ashen, and her eyes were fixed on A-Qiang.
Seeing his wound reopen and blood spurting from the corner of his mouth, he bit his lip and cried out, "Let him go! Let him go! If you have a problem, come at me! I don't have long to live, just kill me! Kill me!"
The atmosphere was heavy, tinged with gloom and somberness.
Poverty and death from illness are inescapable fates for the poor.
Money isn't everything in this world, but it can definitely become a devil in people's hearts.
Tang Yaoyao looked at Aqiang, who was screaming in pain on the ground. He was an idiot who couldn't distinguish right from wrong, but he loved his mother very much.
He lacked affection, so he knew that kind of hardship even more and would love his family even more.
It can be described as naive, or as foolish.
But he's an idiot, so don't expect anything from him.
Tang Yaoyao stared coldly at the widow again. She didn't really hate her child that much; it was a piece of flesh that had fallen from her body, and she couldn't truly abandon it.
But she also has children, yet she forgets that other families also have children.
It hurt her father and her fiancé.
Unforgivable.
"Killing you would be too easy for you. I also want you to experience the feeling of being torn apart by flesh and blood." Tang Yaoyao showed no mercy and ordered her men to lift A-Qiang up.
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