But Zhao Hanchen was indifferent to his accusation, his demeanor untroubled, "I have already apologized. Remember to do your own part, as you promised."
For some reason, Lin Chengjie grew even more indignant.
He glared at Zhao Hanchen, resentfully saying, "Apology? Is that how you apologize?"
"Then how would you like me to apologize?" Zhao Hanchen was amenable, his voice leisurely, "Just tell me, and I will do whatever I can."
Perhaps it was his too-arrogant posture, as if he had everything under control.
Lin Chengjie felt oppressed, anger wildly growing in the narrow crevices of his heart.
He forced a smile, his grin more sardonic than sincere, "I want you to go to my parents' graves to offer incense and apologize!"
He couldn't possibly agree, right?
Lin Chengjie had heard too much about Zhao Hanchen from others, a man of pride and arrogance, certainly not the type to easily bow his head.