It was little wonder why Lu Sr. had been so harsh, but still, how could he go that far? Ye Shuyun's heart ached at the sight of her son covered in blood. Who could have been in more pain than her? She had carried him for 10 months, her own flesh and blood.
Lu Sr. turned, shifting his eyes away from his grandson and the sorrowful Ye Shuyun.
He tightened his grip on the whip, trying to suppress the tremor.
Lu Yi, covered in wounds, was sent to the hospital. Luckily, he didn't bleed enough from the whip wounds to warrant a blood transmission. Still, it wouldn't be a matter of days for him to fully heal.
Much had happened in the Lu House to the ignorance of Miao Xinyuan. When she woke up, she felt that something was off about the Lu Family. There were fewer servants, and Ye Shuyun wasn't at home for once. In the entire household, a lone fat cat wandered about.
It was as though there was no one home.
