Becoming the Richest by Farming

Damien Frost saw his mother, and his expression returned to its usual languid state, "What do you mean how?"

His mother frowned at him, "Of course I mean how is Miss Young. You’re always by her side, don’t tell me you haven’t had the chance to speak?"

Damien looked at her with a half-smile, "Mom, you’re beautiful, and apparently you dream beautifully too."

Mrs. Frost: "..."

She suddenly hit Damien’s arm and, seeing him sit in the living room center carelessly pouring himself a cup of tea, pressed on eagerly, "But really, Miss Young doesn’t have anyone by her side. And you, being close to her, don’t you have an advantage? I’ve watched her live broadcast. There’s practically nothing to it, except for her sister, she doesn’t interact with men."

Damien took a sip of water, and only because it was his own mother, did he barely suppress the impatience in his heart, "Mom, these thoughts of yours, you’d better keep them to yourself. Who do you think she is? She’s a key protected figure of the country. They’d investigate your ancestors for eighteen generations if you wanted to get close to her. Whatever schemes you have, keep them well hidden. I’m just carrying out my duty to protect Miss Young, nothing more."

"Don’t I understand that?"

Mrs. Frost sat down, looking at him with a mixture of annoyance and frustration, "You’re not getting any younger. Whether or not you get promoted after this assignment still depends on the superior’s decision. Let’s leave that aside; Miss Young is such a perfect talent. If you could get together with her, our Frost Family would shine with honor! With your age as it is, shouldn’t I be anxious for you?"

"Why do you have to set your sights on her?"