At the end of the month, Shen Zhiyi was called back home for dinner. Her family had three children, and she was the youngest, receiving plenty of affection.
At the dining table, Mr. Shen exchanged glances with his wife and sighed, "Zhiyi, Dad has thought long and hard about this, and feels he still needs to make things clear to you."
"Initially, we pressured you to marry Pei Yu, but I really didn't consider things thoroughly. Your mom and I have discussed it, and if you want a divorce, we support you."
Shen Zhiyi didn't expect them to bring this up and slowly put down her chopsticks.
Seeing that she didn't speak, Mr. Shen continued, "If you don't know how to talk to Pei Yu, I can talk to him."
Shen Zhiyi remained silent for a while before saying, "There's no need to get a divorce, necessarily."
Her father was somewhat surprised. "Don't you dislike Pei Yu?"