Although these matters concern the older generations and half a century has passed, as a junior member of the family, I cannot pretend they never happened.
Lu Qingqing has always been clear about where she stands on grudges and gratitude, and now even more so.
She wore an orange cashmere maternity dress that highlighted her skin, fairer than snow, and her pearly white and delicate face seemed tightened by the frost of autumn.
Bai Liting, as if she hadn't seen the displeasure on Lu Qingqing's face, shrugged off her coat, sat down opposite Qingqing with Jessica, and her smile remained hearty, "Mrs. Fu, you and Jessica are having a meal, you wouldn't mind if I joined in with an extra fork, would you?"
In China, people often say 'add a pair of chopsticks,' but she changed it to a fork.
It's somewhat inappropriate.
Lu Qingqing retorted: "What if I say I do mind?"
She had made arrangements with Jessica, not Bai Liting.
