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On Jiang Anan's birthday night, apart from Jiang Wang regretting that he didn't have time to showcase his culinary skills, everyone had a great time.
The festivities over, Zhao Rucheng returned home.
He sat quietly in his study for a while before hearing the sound of the door being pushed open.
"You've worked hard today, Uncle Deng," Zhao Rucheng said, his posture casual but his tone genuinely respectful and warm.
The housekeeper called Uncle Deng, standing with impeccable manners, smiled warmly and said, "That Ember Ending Lance is of fine quality. As one generation succeeds another, I feel as if I've grown old."
"How could that be? When you walk down the street, others might mistake you for my brother."
Uncle Deng's expression did not change, but he simply stated, "There is an order of respect and hierarchy."
Zhao Rucheng opened his mouth, probably wanting to say something, but knowing it would be moot, he fell silent.