Song Shuhang clearly wasn't giving up. He even ran to the wooden door in hopes of detaining the ball.
Senior Three-Eyed Young Man leaned back in his rocking chair and calmly said, "Little Tyrannical Song, there's no need to keep pestering it. No matter how much you taunt it, it won't come in. According to our agreement, since it won't enter, we'll have to let go of this wager."
The rain continued to fall from the sky.
For some inexplicable reason, even after witnessing Song Shuhang lose his gambling stake, Senior Three-Eyed's mood didn't improve.
"My Lord, our old friend has passed away. No matter how much you miss them, they can't be brought back," the eyeball butler holding the umbrella offered gentle consolation. But then, it suddenly added, "So, please, My Lord, put an end to this storm. It has been raining excessively lately, and I fear my rheumatism is about to flare up."
Senior Three-Eyed was speechless.
