"You're Ji Wu?"
With her back to Madam Wei, a smile played on Ji Qingwu's lips.
By the time she turned around, the smile had vanished from her face.
She toyed with a stray lock of hair at her temple and said demurely, "I pay my respects to you, Madam."
A peculiar glint appeared in Madam Wei's eyes.
'Such a young, striking face. It's an age-old truth that even a hero is no match for a beautiful woman. It's no wonder my grandson wants to marry her.'
The old madam had thought no one could rival the beauty of their Liru, but it seemed there was always someone more stunning.
'But a man marries a wife for her virtue, not her looks. Wei Ting is the eldest of his generation. The woman he marries will be the wife of the eldest grandson, and more importantly, the General's wife. How can such a decision be made so rashly?'
Initially, Madam Wei had trusted her grandson's judgment.
