Instantly, Su Zhenglong's face, which had been flushed with excitement, turned ugly, layer by layer; his body stiffened.
Mei Xiaofang's glowing complexion froze, the corners of her mouth twitching uncontrollably.
Cold light flickered in Sikong Jing's eyes. This old dog really was incorrigible, beyond help.
"Grandfather, if Brother Jing dies, I will not want to live alone," Su Yuexi said softly, yet her tone was resolute as if cutting nails and slicing iron.
She clung tightly to Sikong Jing's arm, looked up with a smile, and said, "Brother Jing, let's go back."
Sikong Jing nodded deeply, gave a cold sweep over the whole place, and then turned around, taking Su Yuexi with him as they left the birthday banquet.
"Father, for next year's birthday banquet, please light a stick of incense for Su Shan."
Trying to suppress his rage, Su Zhenglong added this last sentence before turning away with Mei Xiaofang, his heartbroken sorrow imaginable.
