Is My Son Not Good Enough For You?

Since the lesson had ended, Li Meirong gathered her materials and grudgingly thanked Grandmaster Zhu Zhang.

He hummed in acknowledgement.

"I'll take my leave now…" Li Meirong's voice was soft and delicate. She hoped to depart as soon as she was able to.

"No need to be in such a hurry. Stay for a few more minutes, your Master has some questions to ask you." Zhu Zhang gestured for her to sit down.

With a fake smile plastered across her face, she hunkered upon the chaise, again.

The grandmaster stood straight as a ramrod, his countenance stern as ever. "I have been previously misinformed. Turns out, you have met Young Qingyue before… My son told me that he has asked to marry you."

Snowball stood at Li Meirong's side, making a low rumbling sound that sounded suspiciously similar to a cat's purr.