Mrs. Roland's gaze was sorrowful: "When I gave birth to her, Ruby was so small, her eyes and nose all wrinkled, and there was a rose-like birthmark on her body, beautiful like a print. If I knew what would happen later, even if it killed me, I wouldn't have let her out of my sight."
A slightly trembling voice rang out:
"Rose... birthmark?"
"Yeah. Have you ever met someone with such a birthmark?" Mrs. Roland noticed that her complexion seemed a bit off.
"No!" Sylvia Lane shouted. "Now that everything's settled, where shall we go to play?"
Mrs. Roland took a deep breath to calm herself. "There are rich geothermal resources nearby; we can soak in the hot springs. There are also some ethnic folk performances that are quite fun."
"Okay, then let's go." Sylvia Lane laughed.
On the surface, she was laughing, but inside, a storm was raging.
She kept reassuring herself, it's not true.
