Wu Jie forced an awkward smile and glanced at Qiao Zhengliang, who was smoking and exhaling clouds of smoke.
"What I just said didn't work, huh? Do you know how harmful secondhand smoke is?"
"Your daughter Joy is pregnant. The child in her belly isn't just Zhang Hao's—it's also your grandchild..."
Before Wu Jie could finish, Qiao Zhengliang stubbed out his cigarette.
Fang Qingya couldn't bear it anymore and spoke coldly:
"The three of you—your whole family—are heartless and shameless, using a child to make money. That's your choice!"
"But there has to be a limit to everything, right? Do you think Zhang Hao's family is your personal ATM?"
"No matter how much he earns in a day, that doesn't give you the right to demand outrageous sums!"
As soon as she finished her words, Joy, holding her belly, sneered and said:
"We're not asking for a lot! Not even thirty thousand a month—hardly counts as much, right?"
"Not much?"
