Qinghe gave a forced smile and discreetly withdrew her hand. Li Xiangyang's mother was just too enthusiastic; she couldn't handle it. And the way her eyes lit up with excitement as if seeing prey, why did that make her feel so uneasy?
Li Xiangyang seized the moment to step in front of his mother and release Qinghe, "Mom, you're dressed so beautifully, where are you off to?"
After all, even the oldest of women are happy to receive a compliment, let alone Li's mother. Although in her forties, she still bore a graceful charm, and the poise of wealthy women was indeed hard to match—she was truly deserving of the word "beautiful."
Complimented by her own son, the woman's attention was immediately diverted. She pointed her index finger at Li Xiangyang's head, "You sweet-talker, you only have the skills to flatter your mom. You better have the skills to coax a daughter-in-law back home for me."
