"Grandpa," Li Mufan said with a crestfallen face as he called out to the furious Li Xiaotian.
At that moment, Li Mufan was truly feeling all sorts of depressed, anxious, and even contemplated death a few times. Why couldn't his grandfather just speak nicely for once? Always calling a grown man 'Li Xiaosan,' 'Li Xiaosan'—could this be any good? Especially in front of his own brothers, well, he could overlook that, but didn't you see there's a lady here? Couldn't you leave some face for me, your grandson?
"I don't have such a wimpy grandson. Get over here now,"
Li Xiaotian thundered commandingly at Li Mufan, his own flesh and blood, growing even angrier when he saw his good-for-nothing son hiding behind a young girl, making Old Master Li all the more eager to give him a thrashing.
"Grandpa, I've still got injuries. Can you promise not to lay a hand on me? Otherwise, I really dare not approach you. It's my ribs that are broken, not my head that's been squeezed by a door."
