Deng Jiaru decisively stood up, originally intending to leave immediately, but in order to express her strong opposition, she remained standing.
"Another thing," she tightened her grip on her bag, a long pure white gold strap hung over her right shoulder, "Since you've severed ties with the Yun family when you left, don't ever set foot in our house again."
Her words resounded with determination.
Yun Qing knitted his brows.
Deng Jiaru added, "My father also means this."
In the past, Deng Jiaru tried to persuade the old man not to loathe Yun Qing so much. After all, the old man and Yun Qing were father and son, and blood is thicker than water.
But hearing such words today, Deng Jiaru feared that Yun Qing might retaliate against the Yun family.
So she had to be this adamant.
"Jiaru, your hand…" Yun Qing's gaze fell on her slender fingers from her resolute face, "You've got a burn."
