Han Zhan was dazed.
Taking advantage of him being in a trance, Song Ci released him and hurried over to his side. She raised her arms and threw the ball into the hoop.
From afar, Han Aoyu roared. "Two points, good shot!"
Holding the basketball, Song Ci turned and raised her brows proudly at Han Zhan.
Han Zhan raised his brows and wanted to say something, but he shut his mouth in the end. Han Aoyu walked over, looked at his grandson in disdain, and lectured him with a straight face. "Useless! Your willpower is so little!"
Han Zhan accepted the scolding honestly and couldn't retort. Han Aoyu looked at the little fox Song Ci again and commented. "Although you won, it was an unfair victory!"
Song Ci cursed in her heart. "It's good that I won. Who cares about the process?" But she admitted her mistake honestly. "Grandpa is right."
