"It's difficult," the old man muttered, shaking his head. "That son has been this way since he was young—once his mind is set, even a cow can't drag him back. He'll use every trick in the book."
Aaron adjusted his glasses, observing the woman being taken away without a hint of discomfort. It was clear she wasn't bothered by the old man's opinion at all.
She was dressed in a lavender short-sleeved cheongsam, her arms, slender and fair, gracefully extending from the armholes.
Unlike women who often adorn themselves with gold and jewels, Wei Da wore a simple silver-white ring on her middle finger, the same finger that brushed against Alaric's neck.
Alaric's neck was thick and muscular, veins bulging in sharp contrast to the delicate, frail arms of the woman.
The hem of her skirt revealed her long, straight, and fair legs, and a jade chain hung from her ankle, its soft "ding-a-ling" sound adding to her elegance as she walked.
