Zhao Lifei turned to face her grandfather who was sipping on his tea without a care in the world. He looked like he was in his zen garden, where the glorious flowers were in full bloom and the birds were chirping in the background. He was too calm for a man that easily dropped four hundred and fifty million dollars on a single instrument.
Seeing her antsy and eager to speak, Zhao Moyao slowly laid down his cup. Now, that was a well-brewed cup of tea. In an unsuspecting voice, he asked her, "What is it?"
"The piano...I can't possibly accept it." She whispered, feeling guilt settle into her. She did not like to rely on his money or enjoy the idea of having anyone splurge on her like this. She made sure to keep her voice low so that the people around them could not overhear her.
"Alright then, I'll have it trashed."
