Fake

When she woke up, Su Xiaoling had already cut down a few trees for her to saw.

Wei Ling looked at the unfinished food from last night and was very puzzled. "Isn't there still so much left? Why do I still have to do this today? Yesterday, my palm was already blistered!"

Wei Ling attacked. Several blisters on her well-maintained hands had already dried up.

"Heh—"

Su Xiaoling sneered. She reached out her hand. The blood soaked in the bandage was already dry.

"If Mother is unwilling to do it, I can't force you. Similarly, if I'm unwilling to do something, no one can force me."

Su Xiaoling's voice was cold. She looked straight at Wei Ling.

Wei Ling's expression gradually weakened. She looked at the gray sky outside and felt despair.

She lowered her eyes and picked up the dagger on the ground. She answered with her actions.