Lin Zhiyi, weighed down by a heavy heart, walked out of the resting room.
As soon as she looked up, she heard Gong Shiyan scolding Gong Chen unhappily.
"Third Young Master, you're being too reckless! Dad is so concerned about face, aren't you just publicly slapping him in the face?"
"For the sake of the family's future, sacrificing a little face is something he'll understand," Gong Chen said expressionlessly.
"You... and you don't care about your own reputation?"
Older by many years, Gong Shiyan had the tone of a father, unavoidably heavy.
Lin Zhiyi stood to the side, her eyes cast downward at the tip of her shoe.
Like an outsider, she quietly waited for the man's reply with her ears.
She didn't understand why Gong Chen had to make such a fuss.
The man's voice was as indifferent as ever: "I'm the same."
Lin Zhiyi sank at once, realizing that he didn't care about anyone, and that family interests came first.
Not a surprise, yet her mind still went blank for a moment.