"Thanks a lot! Besides giving it to you, I have no one else to give it to," Wei Qin smiled, a picture of elegant amiability, showing great patience with Huo Beijiang.
Wei Fangyi felt his liver ache with anger. He was standing right there, a living, breathing person; how could his son act as if he couldn't see him? Even if he couldn't drink, giving it to him was also fine! Why on earth give it to that bastard Huo Beijiang?
Wasn't that a waste?
And later, when they would be eating delicious food and drinking red wine, wouldn't it be torture for his son, who couldn't eat or drink anything?
Wei Fangyi had every reason to believe that Huo Beijiang was here purposely for revenge.
"Old Chen," Wei Qin called outside.
Soon, a man around forty years old came in and, with respectful tone, said, "May I ask what you need?"
"Please prepare dinner for five."
"Yes!" The man called Old Chen replied and quickly left.
