"Little… Xiaomei! Have you come to save your father?"
The fat man's eyes lit up. His daughter had never defied him from a young age, whether it was serving as a nightingale or eventually being sold off. She always obeyed…
As Xiaomei approached, the fat man sensed something was amiss.
The daughter in front of him seemed unfamiliar—she was no longer wearing revealing dresses and high heels, but a thick cotton jacket and military boots, her hair neatly tied up, resembling those unreachable white-collar workers he saw on television screens.
A fierce mechanical arm was fitted over her hand, covering her smooth skin, the cold steel hiding immense strength.
"Daughter?" he said.
Xiaomei looked at him, walked over, a squad of soldiers following her. She stared at the man for a while then spoke:
"Pull him up."
