"Mom, Xiao Yue is nice, but just because she's nice, does it mean we have to marry her?" Mo Siyu felt like he'd been struck by lightning. He always knew his own mom wasn't entirely reliable, but he hadn't expected her to be this unreliable.
In his mind's eye emerged Tang Yue's delicate, flower-like countenance. Undeniably, Tang Yue held a special place in his heart. All these years, he had never liked women, much less allowed other women to get close to him.
But Tang Yue was the exception; he didn't mind her closeness.
"Feelings can be cultivated. Xiao Yue is so outstanding, I think you two are a match made in heaven," said Mo Xiaolin, who adored Tang Yue and couldn't stop singing her praises, almost wishing she could marry her off right away.
