Nicotine lingered in the air, causing Fu Qiyue to frown slightly before quickly relaxing her brow.
She quietly looked up, her gaze falling on Huo Yirong.
He, however, was not looking at her, but rather at where her father was sitting.
Upon seeing this, Fu Qiyue let out a sigh of relief and lowered her gaze once again, embodying the gentle grace of an ancient lady.
Seeing the reluctance yet obligation of Fu Yueyuan, Huo Yirong chuckled lightly, "Mr. Fu, I understand your predicament.
I will personally discuss the matter with my grandfather, Miss Fu, with her beautiful appearance and gentle temperament, is still quite young and should stay by your side for a few more years."
Huo Yirong took another, deep puff of his cigarette.
The remaining half was placed in the dark ashtray on the table.
Fu Yueyuan did not expect Huo Yirong to decline so straightforwardly.
Though the words were gentle, the message was clear.
Huo Yirong placed his cigarette down and stood up.
