"I know, Mom, just remember not to say it was me who wanted her to come to our house for dinner."
Si Jing's heart was filled with trepidation; he was terrified his mother would portray him in front of that girl as if he were some kind of stalker.
"Don't worry, I always know where to draw the line," Mrs. Si said, unable to hold back a laugh at the sight of her son's anxious demeanor.
Indeed, people only start caring about their image once they have someone they care about.
"Alright." Although Si Jing said this, he was still slightly uneasy.
In the evening,
When the family was all back and gathered around the dining table for dinner, Mrs. Si couldn't wait to tell them about it.
"Qiaoqiao, Si Jing has taken a fancy to one of the artists from your company."
Sang Qiao's hand, which had been reaching for food, paused instantly. She turned her head to look at her mother, trying to gauge her thoughts from her expression.
