Currently, Nala sat on one of the benches on the viewing platforms. She looked calm on the surface, but her heart was far from composed. After all, she had waited so many years for this day, and it finally came.

Any woman could understand this. Even if she wasn't born beautiful, no one wanted their face to be covered in scars.

"Nala, are you really sure?" a beautiful woman asked, placing a hand on Nala's shoulder. It was Nala's mother.

"Well, I'm confident he'll be able to. But if he can't, then I'm just destined to be like this in this life."

As she spoke, an elegant-looking middle-aged man showed up on the other side. He patted Nala's hand—there were no words exchanged between them. But as her parents, they naturally stood firmly on their daughter's side.

In fact, Nala was extremely grateful. Without the support of her parents, she might've actually committed suicide a long time ago. Not to mention, they had paid a great price back then to send her to live in the big city.

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