"Slap!" A heavy smack resounded, and a thin line of blood appeared at the corner of Zan Weiwei's mouth. Li Ailing rushed to her daughter's side, gently caressing her daughter's cheek, which now bore five distinct finger marks. "Weiwei, don't blame your father, he..."
"Get away!" Zan Weiwei pushed her mother aside, staring coldly at Zan Wenxing. "Great! I was hesitant before, but now I can tell you officially, from today onwards, we each go our separate ways and don't interfere with one another!"
Originally regretful for his impulsive outburst, Zan Wenxing felt ignited anew by his daughter's icy stare: "I gave birth to you, raised you, and after one slap, you start with this nonsense. Fine, leave—I'd like to see how far you can get without me!"
"Wenxing!" Li Ailing called out anxiously, tugging on her daughter's sleeve. "Weiwei, your father is troubled, don't provoke him further, listen to him..."
