```
"I've contacted Song Sishen."
"Good, thank you, Manman."
"Grandpa is too polite, I am also a member of the Song Family."
The pleasantries ended, and Jiang Muwan reached out to see her mobile phone on the desk. Immediately, she looked up and heaved a heavy sigh. Then her slender fingers opened a drawer, from which she pulled out a cigarette. She bowed her head, cupped the flame to light it, her brows furrowed tightly together, making it hard to discern her true feelings.
Fu Jing stood by, not daring to speak for a long time.
She knew that when morality clashed with dreams, it was very hard to choose.
She wanted Huazhong with utmost urgency, but the Song Family had raised her; she couldn't be an ungrateful person who crosses the river and tears down the bridge.
Without the old master of the Song Family, where would Jiang Muwan be today?
Without the old master of the Song Family, where would Das be today?
