His own mother hadn't recognized her, and Zhao Wei felt aggrieved.
She pulled her mother tighter into her arms. "It's me, your daughter."
Your own flesh-and-blood daughter, Zhao Wei!
Madam Zhao Feng: "..."
Born into a military family, Zhao Wei had been as restless as a little monkey since childhood. For a time, she had even been someone the many young dandies of Tianhai went out of their way to avoid. She had always been on the taller side among girls her age, but even so, she hadn't been so tall as to exceed anyone's expectations.
The year Zhao Wei ran away from home, she had already blossomed into a graceful young woman.
Once a woman reached that age, her height and appearance didn't change all that much. Over the years, Madam Zhao Feng had imagined the tender reunion between mother and daughter countless times. Her daughter was flesh of her flesh; she was sure she'd recognize her child at a glance.
But reality shattered all those tender imaginings to pieces.
Her daughter—she really couldn't recognize her!
The girl who had once stood only half a head taller than her, with a tall, slender figure and a dashing bearing, had become a woman with powerful arms and a broad chest after only a few short years apart. She didn't just tower over her while standing; even crouching halfway down, she was eye to eye with her. She could wrap her in a full embrace just like her father. Even the cold metal against her cheek as she buried her face in that chest was similar.
At that moment, Madam Zhao Feng felt as if her brain had stopped working.
The others present weren't faring any better.
The eldest son had mistaken Zhao Wei for a scoundrel, thought she was about