Qiao Airu pulled her daughter behind her and said to Bo Yanching, "Yanqing, Aunt Qiao doesn't mean anything else. Not many people are invited to the funeral. Your grandfather had already given strict orders; one invitation per person. The invitation states the time; it ends at 11 o'clock, after which your father will be laid to rest. Don't rush to start any trouble. I think these people just don't recognize you, which is why they're stopping you. Why don't you call your grandfather and have a word? After all—"
"After all, this is your father's funeral, making a scene is not good."
Don't recognize me?
Heh.
If they really didn't recognize me, their expressions wouldn't be so evasive right in front of me.
The invitations are all aimed at him.
"Aunt Qiao, when did you learn about my father's death?"
Qiao Airu was taken aback for a moment, "Four days ago."
Four days ago.
But Bo Mu definitely didn't die four days ago.
