"Grandfather, do you really like Qiao Zhaoyue that much? Why did you have to make me marry her?"
The old Mr. Fu was at a loss for words, his mouth opening and closing, silent.
After a moment, he said angrily, "You are my only grandson, if I don't choose a wife for you, do I have to let you stay a bachelor? You ingrate, you're completely out of line."
Fu Yuxiu laughed scornfully, "That's just you being unreasonable."
The old patriarch was beside himself with anger. "I'm telling you, Qiao Zhaoyue is a very good girl, and if you don't cherish her, you'll regret it later."
"I don't need to regret," Fu Yuxiu refused coldly, "And if you called me here today just for this, then I'm leaving now."
Having said that, Fu Yuxiu turned to leave.
The old Mr. Fu hurriedly called after him.
"Stop right there! Make yourself clear, do you have to drive me to my death to be satisfied?" The old patriarch asked furiously.
