In the room, Madam Zhou's sobs could be heard, though it was uncertain whether she wept for someone else or for her own fate.
Wufu sat calmly drinking tea, and after a while, she passed over a damp handkerchief.
Madam Zhou took it and wiped her face, then accepted the tea Wufu handed to her, sipped it, and asked, "Has your grandmother... has Old Madam Zhou agreed?"
Wufu smiled faintly, "Zhou Xuennian is her eldest son, how could she not agree?"
Madam Zhou felt a pang in her heart and laughed at herself sarcastically, "So, it was only me who held vain hopes, after all, daughters are not as valued as sons."
Despite harboring resentment and hatred in her heart, she still cared for that bond of flesh and blood, which was an emotional instinct, but ultimately it was no match for the preference for sons over daughters, no, perhaps in Old Madam Zhou's eyes, her own daughter was dispensable.
