Chen Feng didn't know who this bald middle-aged man was, but he was certain of one thing: this man couldn't possibly be her husband.
Although the man looked to be in his forties and was actually not bad-looking, his shiny bald head really spoiled the scenery, and he exuded a rough, uncultivated air—a type of man Mengyao definitely wouldn't fancy.
As for being her dad, judging by his age, that seemed unlikely, too; he was too young.
Mengyao was nearly thirty, so her dad should be in his early fifties at least.
Therefore, Chen Feng guessed that the bald man might be one of her relatives, like an uncle or something.
"Alright, go hang out with your friends," Mengyao said impatiently to the bald man.
"We've only met once since you've been back for so many days. Can't you stay and chat more with me now that we've run into each other?" The bald middle-aged man looked somewhat hurt and cast a deep glance at Chen Feng after speaking.
