Sheng Tingyuan coldly looked at her, that familiar feeling of loathing from three years ago resurfaced.
Indeed, when you detest someone, no matter how long it's been, seeing them again will only resurrect that hatred.
The first time he met Ye Chuyi, he didn't have that feeling of disgust, even though they looked alike, his first instinct was very clear.
"You say Ye Chuyi doesn't carry the Ye surname, then have Ye Zhengrong himself come and explain this to me. At the wedding, it was he who personally handed me Ye Chuyi's hand."
Tingyuan's disgust was undisguised: "It doesn't matter what Ye Chuyi's real surname is, what matters is, even if you truly are a Ye, I still wouldn't marry you. You'd better not shamelessly gold-plate your face by calling yourself my wife, it makes me feel sick."
Having said that, he turned on his heel and left.
