Fan Father looked at her incredulously: "Is this how you think?"
"It’s not how I think, it’s what you’ve done, isn’t it?" Hatred appeared in Fan Rou’s eyes.
Such a look should not be directed at one’s own father.
Deep lines of age crept up on Fan Father’s face: "If I hadn’t considered you my daughter, I wouldn’t have brought you back. I thought you understood that."
"I don’t understand. Bringing back, raising , wasn’t it all to sell ? And then you realized I could fetch a good price, so you treated better."
"Don’t give that heartbroken expression. In your eyes, my blood is all black, let alone the heart and lungs."
Even though she did nothing, just because her mother wasn’t from high society, she was considered filthy.
"Putting all that aside, if you truly saw as your daughter, you wouldn’t have been able to slap just now."
"Oh, and this isn’t the first ti. From childhood to now, I should be used to it."
At this mont, Fan Rou released all the resentnt in her heart.
"You don’t like , do you think I like you? You don’t know how much I loathe my own origins. If I could, I wish I could change all the blood in my body. If I could choose, I definitely wouldn’t be your daughter."
Everyone called her a little tramp, said she was lowly.
Could she choose? If she could, she certainly wouldn’t choose such a birth.
"I often was punished to kneel outside, wind and rain lashing, while you laughed and chatted inside. At that mont, oh how I hated, wishing for your imdiate death."
Her kindness, compassion, and benevolence all dissipated in that mont, leaving only hatred.
"I swear, for everything you’ve done to , I’ll return it all. I’ll have you all kneel before , begging."
But alas, after all that planning, it all ca to nothing. She wouldn’t live to see that day.
But so what? She didn’t regret it, just felt a tinge of regret.
"Then I’ll kill you first." Fan Father took a gun from the drawer and shot at Fan Rou.
Fan Rou fell in a pool of blood, her body convulsing constantly.
Blood flowed from her mouth. She reached out, pointing at Fan Father, her eyes full of unwillingness.
People always say that at the mont of death, all grievances and hatred are let go.
When she truly reached that mont, Fan Rou realized it was all lies.
Her hatred hadn’t diminished; it had only grown.
Seeing her eyes full of unwillingness, Fan Father raised the gun again.
Just as he was about to fire another shot, a servant lunged: "Master, that’s your daughter!"
At that mont, Number Five arrived, flying in through the window, firing at Fan Father.
Fan Father grabbed the servant, using them as a shield.
At that mont, Number Five grabbed Fan Rou from the floor and slipped back out the window.
The few guards of the Fan Family couldn’t stop Number Five at all.
After all, she was the top assassin, accustod to far more dangerous places than the Fan Family.
And the Fan Family now mainly guarded against petty thieves, not particularly vigilant.
Number Five didn’t know martial arts; her so-called skills were just relying on steel wires.
She slid down to the door, getting into the car parked outside.
The door hadn’t closed, but the driver started the car.
The sound of engines ca from behind.
Number Five grabbed the gun from the car’s back seat and stuck her head out the window, aiming and firing.
She shot out the tires of a few cars behind, as well as her own.
The driver paid no mind, turning straight into a narrow alley.
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