"Don't worry, auntie. The news I sent back must be good news."
"I hope so."
Zhu Cuilan sat for a while and then went back. She had not forgotten that there were two people at home waiting for news.
Zhao He was usually serious and gloomy. After listening to what was said, he didn't say anything else. He took a puff of his pipe and said, "Then let's wait."
Zhu Cuilan said, "It's so hard for Fang Yu to take the initiative to like someone. If it doesn't work out this time, I should go to the temple one day to pray and see if the feng shui of our grave is bad and is blocking my son's marriage."
Zhao Fangyu knew that his mother had found a matchmaker to go to Dayang Village to propose marriage, and he felt uneasy. He and Yang Anjin had only met two or three times and had never spoken to each other. He didn't know whether Yang Anjin would like him.
When a man reaches his age, he should have married a wife long ago and understood everything he should understand.
Zhao Fangyu used to work as a bricklayer with his father all day. The young men would sit shirtless on the ground drinking, and when they got drunk, they would talk about all sorts of dirty things, laughing lewdly as they talked about the good stuff. He found it hard to listen to, and never actively participated. He had heard so much that he had developed a prejudice against the idea.
He didn't think there was anything wrong with being alone. He didn't care about having a nice wife to warm his bed as men said. He would rather sleep however he wanted. If his mother hadn't insisted on meeting him the first two times, he would definitely not have gone.
But things were different since he saw Yang Anjin that day. Yang Anjin didn't have to do anything. Wherever she stood, her smiling face was engraved in Zhao Fangyu's heart.
Zhao Fangyu thought to himself: If Yang Anjin looks down on me, we will never see each other again.
Zhu Cuilan didn't hear his inner voice, otherwise she would have screamed out loud.
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