Zhao Sulan knelt on the ground, swiftly turned toward Meng Chuyue, and cried out loudly, "Chuyue, I beg you, please save your sister. If you don't save her, she will only have death left."
It was just past nine in the morning, a busy time at the Fruit Store, which had many customers.
The crowd mostly consisted of gossip-loving elderly men and women.
When Zhao Sulan knelt and cried, everyone stopped buying fruit and began to ask what was happening.
Zhao Sulan's five articulate ladies, who she brought with her, immediately began to explain indignantly.
"The one kneeling is my cousin; her younger daughter has uremia and urgently needs a kidney transplant, so she's pleading her elder daughter."
"The one kneeling is my niece, though she's only the stepmother of her elder daughter, she has always treated her stepdaughter well."
"Look, this stepdaughter is so lovely and fashionable; you should realize my cousin has never wronged her, she shouldn't leave her to die."
