The old master grunted coldly, "Luoluo was born in March. What does that have to do with you? If you don't have capabilities of your own, then don't be jealous of others."
These words were not only directed at Yang Xiang, but also made An Yu and the others slightly uncomfortable.
"Grandpa, we didn't mean it that way," An Yu stammered plaintively.
The stern expression on the old master's face, coupled with his naturally imposing demeanor, made An Yu and the others genuinely fearful.
Zhou Qi, unusually silent, was glued to the TV. She watched the young boy on the screen who bore some resemblance to An Zhe and felt an inexplicable mix of emotions in her heart.
"Aqiu, get the car ready. I'm off to play chess with Old Han," the old master got up, leaning on his cane.
"Yes."
Aqiu helped him out slowly.
Once the old master was gone, Yang Xiang could no longer contain her temper.
