"Butler, support Grandpa and step back a bit, everyone else too, don't go beyond where I stand,"
Su Sheng was not joking around. He wore a rare expression of solemnity—no, it was a coldness emanating from him, as if at that moment, he was devoid of emotion.
But that wasn't actually correct; coldness is not synonymous with mercilessness, and extreme cold can also emit light and heat.
"What are you going to do?"
Zijun didn't understand what was happening. Why would he bring out a sword under such circumstances? Could it defend against the wind or the rain?
Suddenly, she felt that these flowers were not so important after all. As long as the person was there, it should be possible to receive flowers again in the future—one bouquet of roses was enough.
However, at such a time, she couldn't possibly stop Su Sheng, as it might have the opposite effect. If he thought that she didn't care about these flowers, she might never receive them again.
"Draw the sword!"
