George Armstrong frowned at Sabrina Sabir, saying, "If you want to do sothing for her benefit, just say so. There's no need to drag into it! What does this have to do with ?"
It wasn't as if he forced Christina Armstrong to marry a seventy-year-old man!
No sooner had he finished speaking than George continued, "What you and dad want to do is beyond my control, after all, I'm the younger generation! But please don't do these things in the na of my well-being! I find it disgusting! As her brother, I can't bear to see my own sister marry a seventy-year-old man!"
His education wouldn't allow him to do such a thing!
What was this supposed to be?
A crabapple tree overwhelming the pear blossoms?
It was a complete joke!
Beatrice Black understood George's temperant very well and knew that her son was kind-hearted. Smiling, she said, "Yes, yes! I misspoke! It was wrong of to say that, your sister's marriage is her own business, and it has nothing to do with you. I'm uneducated and it's normal for not to speak properly, so don't take it to heart. You know your sister's situation well. She lacks culture and insight; to be able to marry a wealthy old man is her good fortune—sothing many people wish for but never find."
At her words, George's expression softened sowhat.
His sister really had no ambition!
To actually be willing to marry a seventy-year-old man.
If she wanted to marry, then just do it, but she had to make up excuses, saying it was for his sake!
Christina made it sound like she was doing sothing noble.
It was kind of nauseating.
After finishing, Beatrice added, "George, would you like to co with us to look at cars tomorrow?"
"Whatever you want," George responded.
After saying this, George didn't say much more and began to lower his head to sip the chicken soup.
All these matters had nothing to do with him; they were all arranged by his parents.
He was just a junior being arranged.
Looking at George, a smile covered Beatrice's face.
Her precious son was sensible and wouldn't give her trouble.
Before long, Christina also ca back, and upon seeing the lavish spread of food on the table, she was surprised, "Mom, did our family strike it rich today?"
Normally, even if the household had prepared sothing tasty, Beatrice would hide it all away before she returned ho.
A situation like today was almost non-existent.
Beatrice looked at Christina with a smile on her face, "Christina is back, sit down and have dinner."
That smile gave Christina the chills.
Because her mother had never treated her this way before.
It felt off in so way.
"Mom, what's going on?" Christina asked.
"Nothing," Beatrice replied with a smile: "It's just that I feel you, Christina, have had it tough for so many years, always working and taking part-ti jobs even during your ti off. So, I made all this good food for you to replenish yourself!"
Christina was now a commodity valued at three million dollars!
At those words, Christina felt a lump in her throat and was moved.
"Mom, thank you."
Laughing, Beatrice said, "Silly child, why thank Wennie thank you to your mother? I should be the one thanking you, you've had a hard ti all these years."
Although Beatrice seed off tonight, Christina didn't think too much of it.
After all, they were mother and daughter by blood.
Even tigers do not eat their cubs.
People change.
It was normal for her mother to change after weathering many storms.
"Co sit down and have dinner, I'll serve you so chicken soup."
After serving a bowl of chicken soup, Beatrice continued, "Christina, don't go to your part-ti job tomorrow, just rest at ho. If you keep going like this, your health won't hold up."
Christina replied with a smile, "Then tomorrow, I'll go shopping with Wennie as we've planned."
"Go ahead," Beatrice nodded.
Quickly, the next day arrived.
Christina arrived at the location she had agreed upon with Wennie.
She stood by the roadside of the plaza, waiting for Wennie.
Christina was especially wearing the down jacket Wennie had bought for her today.
The white jacket made her complexion look very good.
Christina liked this jacket very much.
Before long, a black Bentley stopped by the roadside.
Then the car door opened, and Isla Astir stepped out.
Isla wore a light green wool coat paired with a white beret, which complented the white of her inner layer, still managing to stand out on a winter day.
She got out of the car, then walked around to the driver's side, speaking a few words with the person inside.
The driver's window was half open.
From Christina's angle, she could distinctly see the man's refined profile.
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