"I had a daughter late in life, a little girl about the same age as your grandson..."
Shen Yue raised his eyelids. Before Yue Zhengen could finish, he set his teacup down on the table with a soft, deliberate clink.
"Old Yue, I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
Yue Zhengen chuckled and stroked his beard. "What, my girl isn't good enough for your grandson? She has the Holy Angel Martial Soul, Innate Soul Power of rank eight, and looks just like her mother."
"It's not a question of whether she's good enough." Shen Yue cut him off. "I can't make that decision. Nanxun's marriage is up to him. He can marry whoever he wants, and no one can force him to marry someone he doesn't. Your daughter could have the Holy Angel Martial Soul, be a Titled Douluo, or even be the Heavenly King himself. If he doesn't agree, there's nothing to discuss."
Yue Zhengen was about to say more, but Shen Yue had already picked up his teacup again and was lazily blowing away the tea foam. "Old Yue, you're welcome to come for tea. You're welcome to see Nanxun's Martial Soul, too. But if you came to play matchmaker, swallow those words now. That way, you won't lose face when the kids finish fighting and come out."
Yue Zhengen was thoroughly stumped. In terms of rank, he was the commander of the Southern Legion, while Shen Yue was a minister at the Military Headquarters, one rank above him. In terms of their friendship, they had worked together at the Military Headquarters for decades. He knew his old friend's temperament all too well.
When Shen Yue said there was nothing to discuss, there really was nothing to discuss.
He gave an awkward smile and picked up his teacup, swallowing