Shan Ansong turned around and saw his sister walking with her head held high. He asked in a serious tone, "Are you worried?"
"Have you! Has my son!"
In just a moment, Zhenfeng made a gesture.
"You're here, so why bring gifts?" Mrs. Hong smiled so hard that deep wrinkles appeared at the corners of her eyes.
"Yes, you guys go on your own and he'll go do his work."
What a stupid problem!
Yan Bojian quickened his pace, and when my sister reached my side, he lowered his voice and said, "Mr. Hong is very conceited. You always think that if he gets married, I'll be secretly happy. Now that he is really going to get married, I feel bad. Sister, is there anything wrong with him saying I am so so?"
Yan Funing smiled: "Then it's a deal."
Yan Bojian, who was usually cynical and respectful, showed a rare coldness on his face: "Sister, I will go and argue for him."
"Myna thinks I'm weird too, right?"
As guests, we present gifts to the other party as a courtesy.
As soon as he left, the atmosphere in the main hall became lively.
A possibility that seemed possible suddenly flashed through Yan Funing's mind, but there was no evidence at the moment, so she decided to make it public.
Yan Funing said frankly, "What's strange about you is that you and I have no grudge against each other, so why should I give you a hard time? Giving you a hard time is fine, you just see it. But if you ever come back to my ancestral home, you will have to face this bad face of mine, which is really comfortable."
There were voices coming from the hall. The voices were loud, but loud enough for us to hear clearly.
"When the wedding banquet comes, we cousins will have to drink a few more glasses."
Yan Funing knew the way to the seventh branch of the Hong family, so she followed Yan Bojian closely.
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