Xia Xiyan lowered her head, looking at the invitation in her hands, a mocking smirk tugging at her lips.
Qiao Qianmo had already entered the venue under the staff's guidance.
Susan crossed her arms, watching Xiyan stare silently at the invitation.
What's wrong? Did seeing the invitation strike her dumb so she couldn't even say a word?
Thinking this, Susan felt elated, a sense of being in total control surging through her.
Xia Xiyan, in her current pitiful state, was no different from Xia Zhiyun back then.
Like mother, like daughter—they were destined to be trampled underfoot by her, never to rise again!
"If you don't bring Xia Zhiyun tomorrow, I'll look down on you," Susan declared arrogantly, dropping her arms. "Of course, even if you don't show up, you can still watch it on TV. Makes no difference."
With that, she laughed heartily twice before following them into the venue.
Xiyan lifted her gaze to their retreating figures, her small hand gradually clenching into a fist.
