In other words, Yan Shuirou's trump card was meaningless to her.
Over the years, Yan Xiaye was no longer the timid and clumsy girl she once was. Now accompanied by Li Yuntang and Little Yunduo, she no longer felt inferior or unloved like before.
You could tell from the way she talked, and her serene and tranquil expression, that she was living a very happy life now, far happier than Yan Shuirou.
Clenching her teeth in hatred, Yan Shuirou's gaze fell on the medicine box in Yan Xiaye's hand, her sinister face bore a mocking sneer: "Yan Xiaye, you speak so grandly, but in reality, Second Master Li only sees you as a convenient plaything. Yet for someone like you, even this should be satisfying."
Yan Xiaye blinked dumbfoundedly, hesitantly looking at the medicine box in her hand, too lazy to refute Yan Shuirou's diss.
After all, this was her life, and there was no need to show off to someone unrelated.
