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Chapter 22: Can’t Even Touch The Hands

Shen Mengfang was so infuriated that she could not control her facial expressions. How did this little wolf gain her arguing skills? She knew what to say to agitate her while, at the same time, knew when to avoid her dad’s sore spots.

Song Guoqing cleared his throat. “Alright. Team Leader Gu, you’re being thoughtful. Mother Wu, keep the wine. I’ll have Zhuyeqing wine* with Team Leader Gu this afternoon.”

Gu Jinghang visibly relaxed.

Song Ran continued to be a filial and considerate daughter as she pulled her father’s hand and acted like a spoiled child. “Dad, you shouldn’t drink that much. You have high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and high blood sugar. So take care to watch your diet, understand?”

Song Guoqing chuckled. “Just a sip. A sip.”

The entire family walked to the dining room while Song Ran and Gu Jinghang trailed behind them. Song Ran wanted to hold his arm, but Gu Jinghang gently put her hand away. If he gets too affectionate with the precious daughter of his future father-in-law, he will soon receive his ‘death warrant’ from Song Ran’s dad. Gu Jinghang told himself that he must restrain himself.

Song Ran was aggrieved as she grumbled, “Hmph, I helped you save your money, and you won’t even let me touch your hand.” freewe bnovel .com

Unsure if he should laugh or cry, he instead whispered, “Not in front of your dad.” f reewe bnovel

On the other side of the room, Song Guoqing shouted to them, “What are you two whispering to each other about? Get over here and sit down.”

As usual, Wen Huihui went to sit at the second seat on one side of the long table. Usually, Song Guoqing would sit at the main seat while Song Ran would take the first seat on his left. Wen Huihui was a regular visitor in this family, so she always sat beside Song Ran during mealtimes since they were on good terms.

Upon seeing this, Song Ran walked over and pressed her elbows on the back of the chair. “Huihui, go over and sit beside Aunty Shen. This seat belongs to my Jinghang.”

Wen Huihui looked pitiful as she went over to the opposite seat.

Shen Mengfang chuckled again. “Aw, you two are not married yet. Listen to how you call him. ‘My Jinghang’? Aren’t you afraid people might talk behind your backs?”

Song Ran guided Gu Jinghang over to his seat and sat down without any guilt. She looked up and glanced at Shen Mengfang. With a faint smile, she said, “Speaking of which, I don’t see you affectionately addressing my dad. You don’t really care about him. Some time ago, Aunty Tao, the hairdresser at the Double Tea Alley, told me that there was no love in your eyes when you mentioned my dad.”

Shen Mengfang suddenly felt nervous. Why did she have the constant feeling that this lass was seeing through her disguise?

Impossible. Song Ran was just being straightforward. She just loves to attack her.

Shen Mengfang calmed down and said, “Aw, we’re somewhat of an old couple since we’ve been married for so long. There’s no need to display our affections.”

Song Ran snorted and sniggered. “Oh, getting married for five years is considered an old couple? I thought it would take at least 50 years to qualify as an old couple.”

Song Guoqing cleared his throat. “Ran, stop bickering with your stepmother. Eat your food.”

It was like this every time they met up with each other. Today was considered mild. Song Guoqing had already gotten used to it though.

Song Ran pretended she was hurt. “Dad, you’re biased. Aunty Shen was the one who started this. You should ask her not to bully those younger than her.”

Shen Mengfang’s hands shivered with rage. She preferred Song Ran to raise her voice and argue back with her. That would be more straightforward and easier to swallow.

But just then, Shen Mengfang ran out of wits dealing with the current Song Ran who was enigmatic and weird.

Song Guoqing glanced briefly at Shen Mengfang before saying, “Well, you too. Ran is still young. Just give her some time.”

Endnote: Zhuyeqing wine is a type of traditional herbal alcohol that has had a rich history since the Song Dynasty.

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