"How dare you!"
Just then, a child's voice suddenly pierced the air, naive yet full of deterrent power, "Who gave you the guts to speak to my mother like that?"
Little Thirteen?
Zhan Se was shocked and swiftly turned her head.
Little Quan Thirteen stood there with his arms akimbo, his small brows knitted tightly, his cheeks pulled into a cold expression, looking as meticulous and beautiful as a finely carved piece of art. He might have been small in stature, but his presence was overwhelmingly powerful, especially the way he looked when he was angry, exuding the demeanor of a prince.
"You, the fat old man. Little master will count to three, and if you don't let go, you'll lose your claws! One, two..."
Shuddering, Boss Wang actually reflexively released his grip, intimidated by the little brat.
