Xuanxuan saw the situation was turning bad and hurriedly chased after it.
He didn't need Aunt to be like this; Xuanxuan could actually endure it.
"You refuse to apologize, huh! Fine! Then I'm going to scald your hands into pig's trotters, and we'll call it even." Jiang Xiaorou pressed Fan Tingting's hand toward the soup pot.
The soup was boiling hot, no different than boiling water; the heat could be felt before the hand even touched it, and if both hands really went in, Fan Tingting's hands would probably be cooked for real.
"Last chance, apologize or not," Jiang Xiaorou asked.
Fan Tingting was terrified, her whole body trembling. She didn't want to apologize, but Jiang Xiaorou was too forceful, and judging by the fact that she rented out the restaurant to treat everyone to a meal, she must be quite wealthy, someone Fan Tingting couldn't afford to offend.
But apologizing—she really didn't want to, it was too humiliating, too shameful.