It's not about who's right or wrong—when you're drunk and about to vomit, you simply can't control it.
Xu Lin muttered an apology, but he hadn't finished throwing up, his expression caught painfully between urges to vomit and restraint.
Fu Shilv, utterly disgusted, stormed off.
He called his driver and asked him to bring in a pair of shoes.
Even after changing into the new ones, Fu Shilv still felt there was a lingering stench.
He returned to the wedding hall, only to see a woman seated in his spot.
Guan Mingshu clasped Qin Jin's hand, speaking earnestly, "You're the matriarch of the family; tell me—isn't the palm and the back of the hand made of the same flesh? I've always felt indebted to Xiaxia, and I truly feel for her."
Qin Jin was entirely unaware of what had happened to Sheng Youxia during her travels.
"Since you also have a son, you should've told Xiaxia sooner."
"I was worried she wouldn't be able to handle it…"