When li junyu heard his grandmother's words, his ink-black brows furrowed slightly.
Under old Madam Li's reproachful and disapproving gaze, li junyu strode over, his large hand on ruan Mengmeng's waist showing no signs of letting go.
His expression was extremely cold, and his originally indifferent and cold facial features seemed to be covered with a layer of frost. His eyes were deep and dark, making it difficult for people to see clearly.
When he passed by old Madam li, the man stopped in his tracks and said in a low and calm voice, " "Mengmeng is my wife. It's only right and proper for me to carry her. No one can criticize me."
No one could criticize her meant that even an elder like old Madam li had no right to do so.
He could hug her for as long and as much as he liked.
With that, li junyu carried ruan Mengmeng and sat down.
There was clearly an empty seat on the Changsha in the living room of the Li family's old residence, but he refused to sit.
