"What do you mean by all this? Did a dog eat your conscience?" The young man threw his suitcase to the side, cursing with a look of disgust.
Tuanzi glanced over, immediately let go of Su Li's hand, and ran towards the man.
"Uncle Xiao Heng, welcome back from Africa, it must have been a tough journey."
Seeing Tuanzi, Xiao Heng slightly toned down his anger, raised his hand to pat Tuanzi's head, and muttered, "My flight was delayed, so I got back late. I'm asking you now, Mo Si Huang, what the hell do you mean by this? Not leaving any inheritance for my nephew?"
Mo Si Huang lightly raised his eyelids, speaking in a detached tone, "It's useless to give it to him."
Xiao Heng wanted to curse again; over the years in Africa, his temper had gotten worse, and he would explode at the slightest provocation.
