Lady Zhao was at a loss for words by Wong Qiao's remarks, unable to catch her breath, with tears almost spilling from her eyes. Her son, whom she had raised through hardship, was growing estranged and showing deep affection for the ruthless outsiders who exploited him.
"How could I have given birth to a son like you, who can't tell right from wrong? You do so much work and only take a ten percent share, and do you really think that's too much? I may not know about other things, but take these Three Thousand Taels of Silver for example, how much do you actually get after toiling so hard? Didn't I raise you with difficulty, hoping that you would spend more time with me and live a comfortable and stable life?"
It was all too familiar, Wong Qiao's heart filled with bitterness. His mother had indeed suffered, that he couldn't deny. But what exactly would make his mother happy?
