He had to muster all his strength to stop himself from getting on a plane headed to Tung City.
The consequences of indulging in his desires were terrifying, and he couldn't bear the sin, so he had to endure.
The pen in his fingertips slowly came to a halt, then he slowly pinched the pen tip in his palm, tightening his fist and closing his eyes impassively.
A moment later, the phone on his desk rang. Treton opened his eyes, threw the pen aside, casually shook off the blood flowing in his palm, and picked up the phone.
"Dad."
"The family banquet is in a few days, when are you planning to come to the ancestral house?" Zelda Swallow's voice was always so full of vigor.
"Oh." Trenton leaned lazily on his office chair, "I don't plan to come."
"Is that reasonable? The elders are all at home, and you, the younger generation, don't come?"
"I haven't been absent before." His tone was still lazy, "Isn't my big brother there? He's your heir, so can you stop bothering me?"
