Beitang Zhen Ting was furious at Beitang Yao, his face turning an ugly shade as he shouted, "Beitang Yao!"
"What? Feeling guilty? Do you know why I haven't wanted to return to the castle for years?" He looked at his father's increasingly dark expression, feeling something indescribable—there was no pleasure, only oppression.
"It's precisely because I don't want to see those useless people in the castle. If not for grandfather's sake, I wouldn't even bother coming back for the holidays!" Beitang Yao's lips pressed into a cold, resolute line, as if those words had not come from his mouth at all!
"Yao, you're becoming more and more unruly!" Beitang Zhen Ting, completely undone by Beitang Yao, felt unable to hold his head up high in front of his son!
"Unruly? In your eyes, I have always been an unruly person!" Beitang Yao coldly eyed Beitang Zhen Ting.
