"Grandma, my mom is like this, and you still want her to work?" Mu Qingqing raised her voice, trying to mimic Mu Shuangshuang's way of being arrogant.
But she hadn't figured out the difference between her and Mu Shuangshuang.
"If she doesn't work, then you do it! From now on, you'll wash all the clothes and bed sheets by yourself, and empty the chamber pot from my room every day."
Old Mrs. Mu snorted coldly and gave Mu Qingqing a sideways glance.
"Don't think that just because you've become some so-called weaver you can flaunt in front of an old woman like me. The Seventh Night festival is over, and no one will come to see your ugly face."
Old Mrs. Mu's few words made Mu Qingqing burst into tears.
Mu Qingqing rushed out of the room and ran into Mu Xiangxiang, who was in the yard looking for some food.
Enemies met, and their eyes were burning with hostility. Mu Xiangxiang took a kick at Mu Qingqing's feet, causing her to fall flat on her face, looking utterly miserable.
