Chapter 3: Reborn as the Daughter of a Scoundrel?

The middle-aged woman was about to strike again when Lian Meng, already on her guard, reflexively stepped back and collided with the man who had accompanied the ambulance.

Feeling awkward, Lian Meng turned to apologize, “I’m sorry, excuse me…”

Her eyes fell on a man dressed in an impeccably tailored Italian three-piece suit, and she couldn’t help but steal a few more glances in surprise.

The man wore gold-rimmed glasses, his features handsome and aloof. From his gaze to his demeanor, everything about him was restrained, even his breathing seemed faint, shrouding him in an aura of ascetic detachment that kept others at bay.

Tsk, now there’s an ascetic dreamboat!

But what was with this outfit?

This was a hospital, for heaven’s sake…

Was he rushing over from a banquet or a ball?

Did he just come from some fancy evening event?

“Parent, if you have concerns, you can talk things out. There’s no need to get physical with your child. The child is safe now, which is something we should be grateful for.” Lu Ming’s voice was soothing, magnetic, and refined. As a university professor with professional integrity, even he found the scene before him hard to tolerate.

What kind of parent was this? Her daughter had just escaped death, and she could only think to hit her—did she wish her dead?

“I believe that unless Lian Youyou faced difficulties she truly could not overcome, she would never have resorted to such an act. What we should do now is help her overcome these hardships, not punish her.”

“Let me tell you, Professor, it’s not that I’m short-tempered. The girl’s mother died from hemorrhaging in childbirth. I’m her stepmother—a celebrity and a public figure. Do you know how hard it is to be a stepmother? How difficult she is to discipline? If I so much as treat her sternly, the gossip columns have a field day. I really can’t take it anymore…” The middle-aged woman took off her sunglasses as she spoke, tears brimming with frustration.

Her face was heavily made up, the skin already showing signs of sagging and looseness, yet still bearing a strong resemblance to the features in her memory.

Lian Meng’s hand, hanging at her side, clenched into a fist, the knuckles turning pale and betraying her emotion. It was actually Qu Wuyan—the very woman who had stolen her husband, bribed doctors in the delivery room to cause her fatal hemorrhage, and had not even allowed her a proper look at her newborn daughter, Youyou!

“So it’s you, Qu Wuyan!” Lian Meng’s once clear, amber eyes darkened with stormy fury, each word spat out through gritted teeth. “And that man beside you—is that Fan Chi?”

“You insolent girl, how dare you call your parents by their names? No respect at all!” Qu Wuyan’s anger swelled, and she moved to grab Lian Meng by the hair.

But unexpectedly, Lian Meng raised her arm and blocked Qu Wuyan’s hand, then, in one swift motion, retaliated with a resounding slap.

The crack echoed through the room, so sharp that even Lu Ming, usually calm and composed as if nothing could disturb him, showed a flicker of astonishment—though it vanished almost instantly, unnoticed by anyone.

Qu Wuyan clutched her face in disbelief, staring at the young girl before her. After a moment, she spun toward Fan Chi, shrieking hysterically, “Fan! Look at the daughter you’ve raised!”

“Youyou! Apologize to your mother! Or... or your father won’t be so forgiving!” Fan Chi was shocked as well; his usually obedient and gentle daughter had actually struck someone.

“You little brat, if my face swells and I can’t film, I’ll make you pay for it!”