Sheng Jinsen's breath lightened, and even he didn't notice the tension that had been gripping him all over.
This voice that had haunted his dreams unexpectedly rang in his ear, and only then did he realize what he had done.
"Nobody there?" Song Weiyi looked skeptically at her phone screen, which showed the call was still in progress.
"Then I'm hanging up..."
"Hold on,"
These two words, the voice sounded somewhat familiar.
Song Weiyi propped her cheek with one hand, trying to puzzle out who the voice belonged to.
"It's Sheng Jinsen."
As soon as he spoke, Song Weiyi realized.
"My dear nephew, it's you?" Song Weiyi's voice brimmed with thick teasing and astonishment.
Sheng Jinsen's face instantly darkened, "What nephew? Song Weiyi, watch your language."
"Arguing about words with me now? Sorry, but you reminded me of that nickname yourself,"
Sheng Jinsen wanted to retort; at his age, he had never let someone get the better of him like this.
Even if it was just verbally.
