C87 Apologize!

After a series of blows, Tang Jincong found himself cornered with no escape.

That's the downside of being born into high society.

Had they been kids from average families, they would've stormed off after a spat with their parents by now.

But these kids? They can't just walk away.

Once they do, they're financially cut off, stranded without a dime.

Turn to their friends for help?

As the scion of the Tang Family, he was once looked up to, his every word fawned over.

Strip away the Tang Family name, and he becomes a nobody.

Only in fiction do you find a wealthy heir abandoning his fortune for love with an ordinary girl.

Leaving this city was out of the question for him.

Tang Jincong knew all too well that today, an apology was inevitable.

Yet, he seethed with resentment.

Lin Nan remained seated, legs casually crossed, toying with a bottle of mineral water as if it were a fine vintage.

His gaze on Tang Jincong carried a smirk of pity.

It was as if he relished seeing Tang Jincong at his mercy.

At last, Tang Jincong steeled himself and approached Lin Nan.

Though his eyes blazed with fury, he bowed mechanically, like a spring compressed by force.

His voice came out feeble, "I was wrong!"

"What was that?" Lin Nan asked.

Tang Jincong's face contorted, but he raised his voice slightly, "I'm sorry, I was wrong!"

Lin Nan turned to Tang Yuanshan, feigning confusion, "Mr. Tang, your house is so well soundproofed, I can't seem to hear anyone speaking."

At that, Tang Jincong nearly exploded with rage.

Lin Nan's provocation was too much!

Under the sharp glare of his grandfather, Tang Jincong inhaled deeply and bellowed, "Lin Nan, I'm sorry! I was wrong! I truly was! Please forgive me!"

His voice, heavy with defiance, reverberated through the expansive dining hall.

The outburst was so loud that everyone working in the restaurant paused and turned to stare.

What was happening with Tang Jincong? Publicly admitting his wrongs, and so loudly at that.

Under the scrutiny of onlookers, Rollen Freeman felt his face grow hot with embarrassment.

His heart was in agony!

Years of cultivating the image of the Freeman family's young master and positioning himself as the prime contender to inherit the family legacy—all shattered by a single apology.

His gaze towards Westley was laced with venom.

Though he couldn't exact revenge at this moment, he vowed silently to erase Westley from the face of the earth.

He vowed!

"I heard you loud and clear. Why the shouting? I'm not deaf!"

Westley cleared his ear and responded, "Well, since you're genuinely remorseful, I'll let it slide."

Rollen's right hand clenched his thigh so tightly it nearly drew blood.

He used the pain to keep his rage at bay, to prevent an outburst in public.

"Thanks. I hope for a peaceful encounter the next time we cross paths."

Rollen's voice bore down on the last four words.

"Sure." Westley replied with a smile and a nod.

Their stares clashed in the still air.

"I'll take my leave now. I'm feeling under the weather and need to rest."

Rollen could no longer maintain his facade and turned to exit this place of humiliation.

"Wait!" Sayeed Freeman called out.

Rollen halted, his voice raspy, "Grandfather, is there something else?"

"Upon your return, you're confined to the house for a week. And you will handwrite the Freeman family's code of conduct a hundred times. If you fail, don't bother coming out." Sayeed's expression was stern.

"Yes, Grandfather."

Rollen inhaled deeply and trudged away.

"My apologies, Dr. Jimenez, for exposing you to our family's disgrace once more," Sayeed sighed.

First his son, now his grandson—Reeve and Rollen were a constant source of concern.

"No worries. Let's get back to our meal. Elder Freeman, I'm in high spirits. How about we toast to the occasion?" Westley suggested with a hearty laugh.

"Absolutely, that's the spirit!" Elder Freeman chuckled, nodding in agreement.

Westley's readiness to share a drink signaled that any previous tension had been diffused.

Elder Freeman was, of course, more than happy to join in.

As dinner wrapped up, dusk had settled in.

Westley and Elder Freeman stepped outside together.

Having indulged in a fair amount of wine, Elder Freeman's steps wavered as he emerged, his face flushed with a rosy, drunken glow.

Yet, his heart swelled with joy.

Westley had just bestowed upon him another life-extending elixir, which he cherished like a rare gem.

Unbeknownst to him, this very formula had previously been given to Elder Lambert by Westley. Now, by passing it on to Elder Freeman, Westley was simply extending his aid.

"Jimenez, our first meeting today has been incredibly harmonious," Sayeed said, his smile beaming.

"Elder Freeman, your candor and integrity are truly admirable," Westley responded, offering a respectful bow.

"I wish I could have made you my sworn brother. Had I been twenty or thirty years younger, I would have insisted on it," Sayeed remarked.

"There's no time like the present for us to become sworn brothers," Westley replied, his grin matching the warmth in his voice.

Reeve, listening from behind, was suddenly gripped by anxiety at the thought.

Should these two actually become sworn brothers, where would that leave his own standing?

Westley appeared to be in his twenties, while Reeve was well into his fifties.

What would he call Westley in the future?

Refer to him as 'uncle'? The idea was ludicrous.

As Reeve was mulling over how to dissuade his father, Elder Freeman spoke up, "Let's not take it too seriously. It's all in jest. The future is for the young; this old man is merely a spectator now."

Westley simply smiled, offering no comment.

Reeve's heart, once fraught with concern, settled into relief.

Thankfully, Elder Freeman wasn't as impulsive as he'd feared.

As they made their way to the door, Molly, responsible for the household's miscellaneous tasks, approached them in a rush, bowing respectfully. "Elder Freeman, Old Master Freeman."

"Molly, what's the rush?" Elder Freeman inquired, his tone light.

"I need to speak with Old Master Freeman," Molly began, hesitating.

"If there's something on your mind, feel free to speak up in front of everyone," Reeve interjected.

"Molly reported with complete honesty, "Miss Rogers is still waiting outside the door, refusing to leave. She insists on seeing you, claiming she has something important to discuss."

"I've made it clear I won't meet with her!" Reeve replied, his face etched with annoyance.

What a farce. Just because she's a CEO of some minor firm, she thinks she can demand an audience with him whenever she pleases?

Does she actually consider herself that influential?

Doesn't he have any self-respect?