Meng Qingshan answered without a second thought, his tone indifferent. "What's so strange about that? When a wolf turns back, there's always a reason. Either it's repaying a kindness or seeking revenge."
"Then which do you think I've come for, to repay a kindness or to seek revenge?" Su Qing asked with interest.
Meng Qingshan looked into Su Qing's bright eyes, which reflected the lights of the night market, and replied, "It's all written in your eyes. Do you really need to say it?"
"It's all written in my eyes?"
Repeating Meng Qingshan's words, Su Qing suddenly gazed at the brilliant lights in the distance, lost in thought for a moment.
In truth, her name wasn't Su Qing.
Su Qing was her mother's name.
She had no name of her own.
Ever since she could remember, her mother had called her a bastard, a mongrel, a wanton.
She had thought those were her names. Only when she grew older did she learn that they were simply her mother's insults.
In that remote village, people were always calling one another all sorts of nasty nicknames, as if that were the only way to prove their superiority.
She gradually came to understand that a name was more than just a label; it carried a person's identity and dignity.
The village children were always mocking her, saying she was a bastard with no father and that her mother was an immoral woman.
Hearing those words filled her heart with confusion and pain.
She didn't understand why her mother had given her such a name.
She didn't understand why her mother would beat her whenever she got drunk.
She couldn't even understand why, if her mother hated her so much, she had given birth to her at all.
She had always wondered what she