Everyone looked at each other in confusion.
They were all wondering who could be so tactless. It was one thing to vote, but to insist on writing Deng Fugui's name down was another.
Shen Ningning glanced around, about to speak up and smooth things over.
Unexpectedly, Uncle Deng stood up.
He handed his young son, Deng Long'er, to his wife beside him.
"Father, don't be angry. I was the one who wrote it." His expression was a little awkward.
The old village chief never would have thought it was his own son!
His eyes widened, his white beard bristling as he spoke sternly, "How dare you disregard my words? Do you still think Deng Fugui is your son? That woman, Wang Qiao'er, has thoroughly corrupted him. For all we know, he could have died out there long ago."
"You have a new wife now. Sanhua is so filial, and Long'er is so clever. How can you still be so muddled, still thinking about Deng Fugui? Have you forgotten? He even changed his surname! He's not your son anymore!"
