Zhao Pingting’s mother was very angry.
Zhao Yingjun said, “Mom, Pingting is still young and doesn’t have enough social experience. She’ll be fine when she grows up. Don’t be angry. I’ll go over and take a look.”
After saying that, Zhao Yingjun ignored Zhao Pingting’s mother’s objections and walked into Zhao Pingting’s room.
In the room, Zhao Pingting was also feeling very uncomfortable.
She was only 19 years old.
She had yet to go to university, had yet to confess to the person she liked, and had yet to show her filial piety in front of her parents...
There were still many things in her life that she had yet to do.
Why.
Why did fate treat her like this?
She thought of her ending three months later.
Zhao Pingting hugged the blanket and covered her head as she cried.
At this moment, there was a knock on the door. “Pingting.”
At this moment, Zhao Yingjun’s voice sounded.