Bibi Dong unconsciously took half a step back. Her pupils trembled as she stared at Yang Xing's face.
Yang Xing raised an eyebrow. "I thought you hated your daughter more than anyone. Why do you look so reluctant now?"
"How could I be reluctant!"
The words burst out of Bibi Dong, her voice so sharp that even she was startled.
She drew a deep breath and tried to maintain the dignity of a pope, but frustration had already crept into her voice. "She's the greatest proof of my humiliation! I was forced to give birth to her, and that beast's filthy blood runs through her veins!"
She repeated herself, as though speaking to Yang Xing and to herself at the same time. "How could I care about her? How could I bear to keep her?"
Yang Xing nodded. "Good."
He paused, then explained, "If you save your younger self now, you won't have a child with Qian Xunji in the future. Whether you have another child or not, that child would be born at a different time, in a different place, with a different father's bloodline. The original Qian Renxue could never be born."
With that said, Yang Xing urged her, "So if you're going to save yourself, hurry. Otherwise Qian Xunji will come back, and we'll have another fight on our hands. What a hassle."
Bibi Dong raised a hand halfway, then stopped. It hung in the air as she fell into a long silence, making no move to continue.
Yang Xing did not press her. He simply stood to one side, quietly fanning himself with his palm-leaf fan as he waited for her decision.
A long time passed.
At last, Bibi Dong's rigid body moved. Instead of pushing the door open, she turned to Yang Xing. "If I