"Yes, A Hao, I thought it over last night, but I still think you should help your brother. Although he took the wrong road amid confusion, he now regrets and intends to make some changes. We should all give him some hope."
The old Mr. Ye said in a low voice, with some tears flowing out of his old eyes immediately. After a while, he wiped his eyes with his hand.
Ye Hao looked at his father, pulling out a piece of paper handkerchief and handing it over to him.
Then he poured a cup of warm water.
He smiled faintly, with a tinge of bitterness.
"I see, father... I'll give him 300 million dollars, but no more." Ye Hao said coldly.
At this time, even pretending not to, he could see that his father's favorite son was not himself, but Ye Yi, whom his father cultivated himself.
Only he knew how he got Ye Group himself.
The old Mr. Ye once again wiped his eyes, as if in a kind of grief, which he felt difficult to rid himself of.
