"I don't know... No, wait a minute!"
"Ah? Jiang Zhimo!"
Jiang Lu at last heeded the countless calls and came out, holding a pipa half-concealed behind him.
"Why is he holding a pipa in his hand?"
Jiang Lu took a deep breath, shook his head, and said, "I don't know."
Then he tossed away the pipa.
As soon as he appeared on stage, all the relatives of Tong Zhenren seemed to have found their backbone.
"Jiang Lang~"
Tong Zhenren's mother, advanced in years and unable to compete with the younger crowd, was squeezed to the back; yet her voice was no less determined, calling out Jiang Lu's pseudonym.
After shouting several times, they seemed to realize something and questioned, "Who are they?"
Jiang Lu slightly tilted his head up, making no eye contact with anyone.
"My dear, I was worried you might be lonely, so I specially invited your relatives over. From now on, we are all one family."
"I see."
"Jiang Lang is always so thoughtful."
