Meng Beichen knew what she was thinking when he saw the look in her eyes. She never regarded this place as her home, but he had to let her blend in here.
He hugged her tightly and said slowly: "My mother is not Chinese. The bloodline of the previous generation is too complicated, so I won't tell you one by one. Let's start with the Patrick family.
The current patriarch of the family is my grandfather. He has only had two daughters in his life. My mother and another aunt have been at odds since childhood. There is no distinction between men and women in the selection of successors in the family. Back then, my grandfather chose my mother, but my aunt did not.
Not convinced, she tried every means to force my mother to leave France.
But what she didn't know was that my mother had already met my father at that time. Once she was selected as the heir, the other half of her life would have to be decided by the current patriarch. My mother persuaded my grandfather several times, but to no avail, so she decided
I am determined to come to China with my father.
The commotion was so fierce that my grandfather threatened to remove her from the family if she left. Such threats still failed to keep my mother.[
Later, I was born in Lincheng. After the French people heard about it, they sent someone to tell my mother that as long as they gave me up for training, they would forgive her for what she had done.
She didn't agree at the time, but she didn't expect that when I was seven years old, I was forcibly taken to France, where I received training as their so-called heir. My aunt's son Xiao Shike grew up with me.
Like his mother, he values fame and wealth above all else. He will fulfill her mother's unfulfilled wishes. He received the same training as I did. Grandpa has to choose between the two of us.
It's just that he was too eager to show off, but grandpa valued restraint and calmness. When he was twenty years old, grandpa announced that I was the next heir. Xiao Shike started to hate me from that time.
If I had not met that Chinese girl, I think my destiny would have followed my grandfather's thoughts..."
"Chinese girl?" Han Yixing was fascinated, but at this moment he subconsciously interrupted.
His voice was deep and pleasant, and he leaned close to her ear. She was a little drunk when she heard it, and the words played before her eyes like images from a movie.
That was his story, and his mother's story. They turned out to be so extraordinary. Could it be considered a vigorous love? Intuitively, that Chinese girl was the one he liked...