"Now that Bazak is dead, you blame it all on me, but that's just you venting your anger. Shifting the blame onto someone else might ease your burden, but poor Bazak, he really loved the wrong person,"
Tu Ya screamed, "No—stop, stop, stop talking!"
The young lady scoffed, "What, you don't want to hear it? But you came here all fired up, weren't you here to settle accounts with me? Now I've settled this account clearly and thoroughly, with clear and concrete reasons! I believe I have nothing to feel guilty about, but what about you? Have you questioned your conscience, do you blame me? What right do you have to blame me?"
Tu Ya painfully clutched her head.
Dong Huiying was quite calm, rational, and sober; her analysis was completely accurate. Tu Ya was indeed redirecting her anger, delivering pain with every word and tearing apart the false pretenses.
