The father-daughter bond was profound.
Indeed, being with her was different.
A faint satisfaction brimmed in Rong Sheng's eyes.
Chu Yifeng observed her closely; her every glance and expression couldn't escape his eyes. He sneered coldly, "This is my daughter. With the way you're acting, I might think that you bore this child for me."
"You're dreaming!"
Rong Sheng retorted subconsciously.
Chu Yifeng's gaze turned icy, "Wishful thinking."
The wife Chu Yifeng wanted to marry would never be someone like Rong Sheng, with her tough and unpleasant temperament, attractive only for her face.
No, even her face wasn't attractive, merely a shell of beauty.
Chu Yifeng secured the painting of Chu Xi, tucked it into his chest, and was about to leave.
