Wang Qiao'er's expression faltered.
She wailed and repented, "It was all my fault. I shouldn't have forced Fugui to call another man 'father'."
"Old Sir, at your age, you can't possibly still hold a grudge against your own grandson, can you?"
Deng Fugui's fists were clenched, but he didn't say a word.
His eyes were bloodshot, and he was filled with shame and remorse!
Uncle Deng opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. He wanted to persuade the old village chief, but he knew his own father's temper.
The old village chief looked at Deng Fugui. "As long as this child is with you," he said to Wang Qiao'er, "the Deng family will absolutely not take him back."
"Unless Fugui says it himself—that he disowns you as his mother. Then I'll take care of him. As long as I have a bite to eat, he won't starve."
"But Fugui, do you dare to say it?" the old village chief pressed.
He had given Deng Fugui this choice before.
