Yet Fu Han still did not explode directly. Instead, she asked in a tone that didn't sound very friendly, "So He Xing, have you convinced yourself to accept my point of view?"
This was the last chance Fu Han gave He Xing.
If He Xing's answer was affirmative, she would definitely be willing to give He Xing another chance.
Seconds went by and He Xing's voice, as calm as ever, began to ring out, "No!"
At that moment, Fu Han's complexion turned as pale as snow, and even her blush could not redeem a hint of color. Paired with her luscious red lips, she resembled a solitary traveler wandering alone in the darkness of night.
Perhaps it was He Xing who noticed Fu Han's pallor. He cleared his throat and spoke again, attempting to explain, "Xiaohan, what I mean is, my thoughts are correct. A daughter missing her deceased mother is not wrong, and you never use your parents to prod Grandpa's wounds. You've done well; but you can't expect everyone to act as excellently as you do."