Eu Meh was highly furious as she wanted to pass on her fury through her blazing palms.
Guo Qiang rushed in to block it.
"How dare you?" Eu Meh widened her eyes, pulled out her hand from his grip and gave him a resounding slap.
Chan Juan covered her mouth in horror.
"You are such a disgrace" Eu meh told her son with utter despair and stormed out.
"I'm so sorry Brother Qiang" Chan Juan squinted.
Guo Qiang dusted his cheek which pained miserably, but managed to hide it all behind fake smiles. Even with it, he looked so young and promising, a random lady will shudder at his sight. He has a dashing personality with a cosmic smile, rover-blue eyes and deep voice.
"It's okay Chan Juan. No matter what happens. I will be by your side" Guo Qiang comforted her, Chan Juan became decrepit by his words and hugged him tightly.
"Thanks so much Brother Qiang, how can I ever repay you back for all your kindness?"
"It's fine" Guo Qiang muttered and patted her back gently.
That moment, Chan Juan suddenly felt obsolete, she was forced to come into this home after her mother's death and now she was being forced to marry someone she doesn't even know personally, and one part of her was also telling her that Guo Daiyu wasn't kidnapped but she dared not to utter a word about it.
After last night, Chan Juan felt her whole world was crumbling down to sawdust that will fade away eventually. They had not still gotten any news from the kidnappers yet, Chan Juan prayed earnestly in her heart for them to call and demand a ransom for Guo Daiyu's release.
Chan Juan was standing on the balcony of Dexin Villa under a parasol. Her eyes were fixed on the azure sky. On her pearly white ear was a shell white wireless headset.
Digesting on the issues from last night, Guo Zhiqiang words ringing in her head continuously, but was still humming along with the music, smooth, raspy and alluring words continued to tumble out of her oxbow lips which drooled with goodness and felinity.
Chan Juan silently nursed her cup of Espresso, and felt a tear trickled down her eyes. She pulled out the head set, and walked into her room, and threw the head set over her princess like bed, while she strolled towards her reading table and dropped her cup of Espresso on it. She took her mother's photo standing at the edge of the table.
She caressed it for a long time, her eyes were gloomy, her face was solemn, bringing out that ancient beauty of a 1000 year demon.
"What to do now? Mother" she clutched the picture frame to her chest.
In beautiful Ancestral Home, which was not quite as simple as it may seem. It was infact a Mansion, it consisted of a huge backyard and fields in the background. The mansion-like ancestral home loomed proudly behind delicately designed iron gates.
Flanked by rows of skeletal trees crowned in crimson and swaying gently to the antumn wind.
At the threshold stood the delicate marble fountain, gurgling of clear water. The chatters of the servants around made the surrounding come to life.
It contained 10 big rooms, 5 small rooms, 2 lounges, a terrace and an ancestral chamber and a strange room that no one has ever trespass. The servants quarters was at the East end of the mansion. The interior of the house is focused around a large central hallway serving as the main avenue of traffic and entrance area to the adjacent rooms.
The hallway flows into a large, wide staircase that provides the main means of egress from the entertainment area of the house to the private rooms on the second floor.
The curtains were a thick red velvet that hung in folds around the mullioned windows and were lined with thick cotton of deepest plum. When they were closed the room was instantly cast into blackness, even on the brightest of days. In winter they stood guard against the biting cold, making even the deepest of winter nights cosy and warm.
Having oblivion touches of vast Chinese antique designs and structure with the whole bountiful and extravagant qualities.
Inside The Shao Ancestral Mansion, in a room, more like an art gallery. An exceptionally handsome male, was busy working at the wheel. His fragile but strong artistic fingers guiding the clay mould gently, his hair soft and dark.
A gloomy but all seductive cast of demeanor, with a flicker of delight and passion in his velvet black eyes as he continued to pull out the clay to his desired shape. Satisfied, he used a Rib made of wood to take the clay off the slowly rotating wheel and placed it on the wooden table for it to dry.