Leng Youchen's brows furrowed slightly as he raised an eyebrow at him, always feeling that his deliberate move to toast them was ill-intentioned. He swirled his wine glass, "Second brother's kindness is well received,", he said. "As for the toast, it should be my wife and I toasting you to thank you for the favor you've shown us."
The corner of Leng Yanbo's eyes twitched, but he was not provoked by Leng Youchen. That night he was clad in a silver-gray suit with a black shirt underneath. Tall and straight like an elegant tree, the ends of his eyes slanting upwards, adding a touch of wickedness.
"We're family, so it doesn't matter who toasts whom. Then I wish you a century of harmony." The last four words, coming from Leng Yanbo's mouth, were clearly laced with sarcasm.
He tilted his head back and drained the contents of his glass, thinking to himself, Leng Youchen, you'll soon find out who Anjing really belongs to.
