Places with few people have many mosquitoes, and the imperial palace was no exception. After slapping three mosquitoes to death that tried to draw blood from him, Zhao Yan was completely numb. Had he known there were so many mosquitoes here, he would definitely not have chosen this spot to talk. General Meng still seemed lost in self-reproach, his brow furrowed almost into a knot. Unable to rush him, Zhao Yan could only wait patiently. He had a daughter of his own, so he could fully understand the General's complicated state of mind right now.
It was a dilemma. If he refused, the gossip in the Capital would drown people sooner or later; but if he agreed, it felt like things were moving too fast. Just a moment ago, in his eyes, she was still a child who needed care and protection, and all of a sudden it had jumped straight to marriage talks. The leap was simply too huge.
Plucking grass, scratching his head—every little gesture revealed the General's inner conflict at that very moment.
Chapter 680