"That's it?"
Shi Ying saw that Song Zhen had nothing more to say, and couldn't help but complain, "You're the world's richest man, after all. Your son is about to get married, and you're giving this little as a dowry?"
Song Zhen rubbed his forehead, half amused and half helpless, "Shi Ying, when George and Heather registered, George already sent you the betrothal gifts once.
That list was even posted on social media, the living room piled with mountains of gifts, various priceless antiques, calligraphy and paintings, sculptures, more than can be counted, enough to open a small museum.
But as a father, I can't give nothing at all. No matter whether he has given a gift before, I'm giving one again.
Shi Ying, I believe this dowry isn't inappropriate at all. Whether Heather is my goddaughter or my daughter-in-law, I've done right by her."
Besides, Song Zhen, though being the richest man, most of the money belongs to the group.
The cash he can freely use is limited.
