The wedding march began to play slowly, reaching Fu Qishan's ears like a death knell sending her to hell.
Rong Jing'an, trembling, placed her hand in Sheng Zhenguo's hand.
A hand that was rough, aged, like it had been stripped of its cocoons.
Fu Qishan's lips trembled incessantly, and Sheng Zhenguo sneered, gripping her hand tightly.
In that moment, Fu Qishan's already pale face became even more bloodless.
Her calves trembled; she was on the verge of fainting.
"Rest assured, I will certainly... take good care of... Qishan." Sheng Zhenguo, holding Fu Qishan's delicately boned hand, gently pinched it, saying meaningfully to Rong Jing'an.
The clench of his teeth in that sentence caused a look of panic to spread across Fu Qishan's face.
Her own repulsion, disgust, and escape from marriage would definitely incur Sheng Zhenguo's displeasure!
"Let's go." Sheng Zhenguo, face flushed with happiness, said with a raised eyebrow.
