No sooner had the words left her mouth than Liu Qinxin, her face ashen with anger, could no longer contain her temper and slapped her daughter hard across the little face.

Liu Jia / Ming Jia clutched her burning cheek, her chest heaving with sobs. Overwhelmed by grievance, she could no longer keep the words bottled up inside and poured them all out at her mother in one breath.

“But she hasn’t forgotten! She remembers that you were the third party who interfered in her mother’s marriage. She even called our maternal grandmother a ‘third wheel’ for stealing another man’s wife! Is it any use trying to curry favor with her like this?”

Liu Qinxin knew full well that her daughter had been spoiled rotten—utterly without guile or subtlety. Yet she never imagined her own child would be so utterly oblivious to her good intentions, so… so outspoken.

Especially those words—‘third party,’ ‘interloper,’ and the particularly harsh term ‘third wheel’—hearing them from Ming Yue was one thing; hearing them from her own daughter was quite another.

What exactly is a ‘third party’? It’s not the one without an official status. In a love triangle, the real third party is the one who’s unloved and doesn’t know how to step aside!

But with such a damning label hanging over her head, no one will ever understand her plight; there will always be someone ready to jab at her very core with it.

Others may poke at her—it doesn’t scare her. But she never dreamed that one day her own flesh-and-blood daughter would turn around and stab her right in the back with the same weapon!

Liu Qinxin was furious. The gentle warmth on her face vanished in an instant, replaced by dark, brooding clouds. She raised her hand again, ready to strike her daughter’s little face once more.

Yet in the end, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. All that remained was a sharp command from her lips: “Shut up! Jiajia, you’ve really let Mom down! I’ve poured my heart and soul into you and your Younger Brother—how can you treat me like this?”

“What about me then? Is this how you treat your own daughter?”

Liu Jia let go of her hand, revealing her pale little face, already flushed red in patches, with streaks of blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Liu Qinxin’s heart clenched painfully. Never before had she laid a hand on her daughter, and now she instantly regretted it. Hurriedly, she cupped her daughter’s face, tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jiajia. Mom was too rough. Does it hurt? Let me get some medicine to rub on it.”

“Don’t pretend to be so caring here! This little bit of pain won’t kill me!” Liu Jia’s tears burst forth like a flood, sweeping away the remorseful Liu Qinxin in one swift motion.

Then she covered her face with her hands, staring at her mother with unmistakable disappointment. “Yes, I’m immature. I can’t make Dad as happy as you can, and I can’t play the dutiful grandchild as well as you do. But what good is all your flattery and acting anyway? What have you actually gained? What have you really put on display? Even now, Dad still hasn’t married you, and the Ming family still refuses to look you in the eye!”

Before Liu Qinxin could say a word, Liu Jia turned away, clutching her sore face, and hurried upstairs.

Liu Qinxin called after her, “Jiajia! Jiajia! Liu Jia!”

Liu Jia heard her, but only replied with a single sentence:

“I said it again: My surname is Ming, not Liu! I, Ming Jia, am not some shameful illegitimate child—I’m Ming Shuo’s legitimate, openly acknowledged daughter!”

Liu Qinxin’s heart ached, but she didn’t pursue her further. Stunned, she stood there, staring blankly at her daughter’s retreating figure.

How long she lingered in that daze, she couldn’t say. Only when she finally came to her senses and turned to leave did her gaze happen to meet a faint glance coming from the second floor.

It was Ming Yue, lounging lazily on the railing, a lollipop still stuck in her mouth. She’d appeared there sometime without anyone noticing, watching the whole scene unfold for who knows how long.

Now their eyes met, and Ming Yue was in an exceptionally good mood—her brows dancing, humming a little tune, almost jumping for joy. Her lips moved slightly, though no sound came out.

Yet Liu Qinxin knew exactly what those lips were saying: “Third party!”

Those two words—‘third party’—like a knife stabbing straight into her heart. It was an open, brazen provocation.

How could Liu Qinxin not be furious?

End of Chapter 53: The Third Party