It was almost half past eight when Song Fengwan arrived at the old Fu residence.
The rain had stopped, and the wind was howling. The night was cold, and the sky was so dark that it seemed as if it was squeezing out the last drop of concentrated ink. A chill assaulted people straight in the face, making them unable to breathe.
When she entered, Old Madam Fu grabbed her hand and refused to let go.
After talking for a while, the group finally sat around the dining table.
Because it was the Laba
When Old Madam Fu passed by Fu Sinian, she snorted coldly. "Don't leave after dinner. I want to have a good chat with you."
