"There are five million in this card, and the password is Xinran's birthday."
"This is compensation for our Lou family to support you for twenty years."
The tone of the noble lady Lin Xiuya was as if she was sending away a beggar who was pestering her. There was undisguised contempt in her alms.
The "Xinran" she refers to is Lou Xinran, the real daughter of the Lou family who found it just three days ago.
And Lou Nianxiao is the "fake" who has taken up other people's lives for twenty years.
In the living room, the light of the crystal chandelier was so bright that it was a bit dazzling.
Lou Nianxiao stood in the center of the living room. In front of her were Lu Zhengguo and Lin Xiuya, whom she had called "Mom and Dad" for twenty years, and the timid Lou Xinran beside them, but with pride hidden in his eyes.
Her suitcase, an old 20-inch suitcase, had been rudely placed at the door by the housekeeper, like a piece of garbage that was eager to be disposed of.
The whole family's eyes fell on her, cold, scrutinizing, with a hint of impatience.
They are waiting.
Wait for her to cry, wait for her to make a fuss, wait for her to kneel down and pray, or wait for her to hysterically reject that humiliating bank card.
