A glint of secret delight flashed in Diewu's eyes. She looked at the man with admiration and anticipation. If he were willing to marry her, even with a dismissive attitude, she would die without regret.
Song San, however, took a deep breath to suppress the anger in his heart: "Lady Qingge, don't play matchmaker lightly. I don't disdain Diewu, but I never said I would marry her, because there is already someone in my heart..."
Diewu's expression became unsightly, impossible to hide, yet she dared not run off or cry. She could only tightly clench her fists, letting her nails dig into her palms.
Gu Qingheng frowned slightly but soon smiled, "Then congratulations. I wonder when we can have your wedding wine?"
"Unfortunately, it's only one-sided on my part." Song San faintly curled his lips, "So I'm afraid there won't be any wedding wine. But if she's willing, no matter the price, I'm willing."
