Duan xiuhui's words had stirred up his emotions, which had been calm for the past few days. It was as if something was trying to break through the invisible shackles and break out of the cocoon.
At that moment, a pair of steady and strong hands firmly held ruan Mengmeng's trembling shoulders from behind.
"Mengmeng, don't listen to her. Don't care about what she says. Don't let other people affect your mood." Zhan Yang's tall figure suddenly appeared. He stood behind ruan Mengmeng, put an arm around her shoulder, and pulled her towards him.
With his other hand on the back of ruan Mengmeng's head, he pulled his daughter, whose emotions were fluctuating, into his arms.
Zhan Yang's dark eyes glared coldly at Duan xiuhui, but his embrace was warm, giving ruan Mengmeng space to hide.
The middle-aged man's deep and steady voice rang out. His voice seemed to have magic, soothing ruan Mengmeng's over-stimulated heart bit by bit.
