Qiao Zhen felt very relieved, so she directly called the security office and asked them to come and kick the people out, and told them not to let them in again.
When Qiao Zhen got home, her mother advised her, "Zhenzhen, you can't talk like that in the future!"
Qiao Zhen retorted, "Why not?"
Mrs. Qiao explained carefully, "You are a girl, and you will get married in the future. If you talk and act like this, you will never be able to get married."
Qiao Zhen found it increasingly incredible. "So, if someone died in my belly, I can get married?"
She poured a glass of water and placed it on the coffee table. "Dad, you've heard what they're saying about me, haven't you? Now all the neighbors know that someone died in my belly. Should we sell the house now and move somewhere else?"
Mr. Joe shouted, "That's a rumor!"
"Who cares?" Qiao Zhen looked at her father expressionlessly and pressed, "Who cares if it's true or false? Even if it's false, it will appear true to others. So tell me, is it true or false?"
That's how society is; it's not something you can simply clarify by claiming you're innocent or guilty. The power of public opinion is immense; it can lavishly promote someone's morality, or indiscriminately ruin a young girl's life. Keyboard warriors and onlookers don't need evidence; they just need to vent and have something to talk about after dinner.
Moreover, Qiao Zhen's actions today were quite intense, and since we were in the hallway, she didn't try to control the noise. It's likely that everything she heard, both what she should and shouldn't have heard, was overheard. Her reputation was already as rotten as a durian, and now it's probably even worse; there's no way to cleanse it now.
Qiao's father was speechless when Qiao Zhen asked him that question. "Let Dad think about it."
Qiao Zhen brought the documents into the room, hiding them carefully. She had to go to work and couldn't possibly carry the property certificate and bank cards with her every day.
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