Chapter 9 The Person Being Pressured to Marry

"President Fan, Mingyu..."

Fan Shaoming raised his hand to stop Su Xiaoyue from speaking, saying indifferently, "I am aware."

Did he really understand what she wanted to say? Without even letting her finish her sentence, this man probably got used to dominating over others in the company and developed a domineering personality.

Su Xiaoyue criticized him in her mind.

"Do you have time, President Fan? I would like to talk to you," Su Xiaoyue, facing Fan Shaoming's deep gaze and wearing her plain glasses, still couldn't see him clearly. She only knew that he had a pair of eyes, a nose, a mouth, and didn't look like a monster. Even though Fan Shaoming's gaze was sharp, she didn't feel the least bit afraid.

"No time," Fan Shaoming replied coldly with two words, then looked at his beloved son. The lines on his face softened as he said, "Mingyu, tonight we shall talk, just father and son. Now go back to the classroom with your teacher and eat, and don't you dare cause any more trouble, or you'll face family discipline when we get home."

Little Fan Mingyu immediately covered his little bottom with his hands. Daddy's family discipline meant being whipped on his little bottom with a rattan. Despite how much daddy loved him, if it really came down to family discipline, not even grandma could save him.

"President Fan, resorting to violence in education is not advisable."

"At school, you're in charge; at home, I am in charge!" Fan Shaoming coldly cut off Su Xiaoyue's words, and his overbearing tone made Su Xiaoyue's impression of him even worse. She thought, as a parent, he only knew how to spoil his child, and when the child misbehaved, he would just hit or beat him. This way of education was not right!

"President Fan, I will be making a home visit this evening; approximately when will you be at home?" Su Xiaoyue knew that communicating with Fan Shaoming couldn't be done in a short while, so she shifted the topic for the moment.

Fan Shaoming's cold eyes returned to Su Xiaoyue's face, and as she looked back at him, both of them locked eyes—a gaze inscrutable, and a gaze bright and fearless.

"Someone will always be there to receive your home visit at Green Water Villa," he said.

What Fan Shaoming meant was, he had no time to deal with Su Xiaoyue's home visit.

The son disrespected the teacher, and the father did the same.

"President Fan, I hope you can place importance on your child's education," Su Xiaoyue couldn't stand Fan Shaoming's attitude and couldn't help but speak out.

Fan Shaoming's handsome face turned dark as he huffed, "If I didn't value my child's education, would I frequently come to school to inquire about my child? Do you know how busy my work is? Do you know how much money I could make in those forty minutes I squeezed out? I actually think it's you who don't value my son's education, only knowing to deceive me and get more teaching funds from me."

His last sentence was an accusation tinged with sarcasm.

"President Fan, first, I thank you for your contribution to education, and I acknowledge that our school's board deceived you. If you allow me, I would like to apologize on behalf of the school right now. I also know you are very busy and that every minute you can earn a lot of money. May I ask you, President Fan, what is more important, making money or your child?"

Fan Shaoming's face grew even darker, "Are you preaching to me?"

"Not at all, I'm merely asking President Fan a question," she replied.

"I entrusted my son to your school, that's your responsibility, so I can work and earn money in peace. If I don't make money, how will my son have the funds for schooling, how will he afford food? As parents, don't we strive to earn money for our children so they can have a better living environment? Is there something wrong with that?"

"President Fan, it's correct that you work to provide for your family. However, sending a child to school doesn't mean all the responsibility should be placed on the school and the teachers; parents need to cooperate too," Su Xiaoyue patiently communicated with Fan Shaoming.

"I don't have time!"

Fan Shaoming cut her off again.

Su Xiaoyue was frustrated.

This man was really hard to communicate with.

Looking at his wristwatch, Fan Shaoming said dismissively, "I'm leaving."

With that, he turned and walked away.

"President Fan, wait a moment, there is something I need your cooperation with," Su Xiaoyue called out to Fan Shaoming. When he stopped, she took Fan Mingyu back to the classroom, but she quickly came back out alone, carrying several cases.

She brought the cases in front of Fan Shaoming and pointed to them, saying, "These are all glasses purchased by Mingyu. Since my glasses broke, Mingyu rushed out to buy glasses for me as a gift, and I appreciate his intention. But he bought too many. Please help me return these glasses. Here are the receipts; you should be able to process the return if you bring these to the person in charge of the eyeglasses store. Also, Mingyu is still very young, so please don't give him too much spending money to avoid developing bad spending habits."

Fan Shaoming looked at the cases, realizing his son had spent tens of thousands to buy the glasses as compensation for Su Xiaoyue. As he heard her last words, his face grew cold, and he said sharply, "I do not want to deprive my son. He can buy whatever he wants as long as he is happy." A few tens of thousands were nothing to him.

It wasn't as if he'd spent millions.

"President Fan, this isn't about..."

Fan Shaoming raised his hand once more to stop Su Xiaoyue from continuing.

Dealing with a parent like him, Su Xiaoyue felt her blood pressure could surge at any moment, until it exploded.

"Since Mingyu gifted them to you, deal with them yourself," Fan Shaoming refused to take the receipts, left the remark, and walked away. After a few steps, he turned his head back to Su Xiaoyue, asking, "How myopic are you?"

"Over eight hundred degrees," she answered.

Fan Shaoming's eyes flickered, and he muttered lowly, "No wonder."

Su Xiaoyue, hearing his mutter, was full of question marks.

That afternoon, a heavy rain fell, washing away some of the heatwave.

A black sedan drove into Sanyang Group, not stopping at the open-air parking lot of Sanyang Group, but driving straight to the space in front of the office building—a place few people dared to park. Those who dared to park there must belong to Sanyang Group's top executives.

The person who alighted from the car was a woman, a woman around sixty-five years old, but she was well-maintained and looked more like she was in her forties. She didn't carry a designer bag like other wealthy women, her hands were empty. After getting out of the car, there was one thing in her hand: the car keys.