Seeing that Yang Chen was safe and sound, Feng Xuewu felt the heavy stone in her heart quietly fall.
However, with Yang Chen appearing so close to her, she found that instead of getting closer to him, he seemed even more distant. Perhaps, as she had said before, Yang Chen was like the glaring, fierce sun, the closer one gets, the more severe the hurt. How could an ordinary woman be close to Yang Chen?
Just like now, Yang Chen had already reached the point where he could sit on an equal footing with her father and grandfather, discussing matters.
Was she really worthy of Yang Chen?
Thinking of this, Feng Xuewu gave a bitter smile. She was a smart woman and didn't think about it further, pouring a cup of tea for Yang Chen. As a woman, she should do what she's supposed to do while these men discussed matters of the battlefield.
At this time, Feng Wuyang had already recounted the recent events between the Feng family and the horse-thief gang.
