At this moment, Imperial Garden.
In the reception room.
An elderly man, with half-white hair but full of vigor, was playing with two antique walnuts in his hands as he looked at Godfery Shaw and said, "Handled quite well. No wonder you are someone we've cultivated for many years. How could a woman possibly become your weakness?"
Godfery Shaw sat across from the old man, his expressionless face revealing no emotion: "Uncle Joan is right."
Joan Shaw grunted: "But this Dawson family is simply not worthy of you."
Joan Shaw's casual tone was laced with a sense of superiority and command.
Godfery Shaw replied calmly, "I know. Don't touch her for now. Having a fiancée as a cover is not bad either; it keeps those people from noticing me."
Joan Shaw laughed: "Good, you handle these matters yourself. Don't let the higher-ups down again. Engagement is fine, playing with women is also fine, but it can only be play. There's no marriage, and especially, no children!"
