The situation was embarrassing enough and He Rongxi had already lost face. The words the little boy said made him look like he's been through a dye workshop.
The little rascal was crafty and with an innocent face, he said, "Uncle, your mother looks quite young! Although she has many wrinkles, her body shape is not bad at all."
He Rongxi looked at Jing Tong's eyes, the obvious wrinkles in the corners caused by anger, and a hint of complexity flashed in his eyes.
Jing Tong was greatly jolted by his clear expression. She had been barely maintaining her composure and the grace of a high-class woman, but now she was seething with anger, burning up all her rationality.
"Do you wish to die! He's my husband, my husband."
"What?" The little rascal was surprised, his big black eyes wide open, and shouted, "Uncle, your wife looks about as old as your mother! Your city folk have such unusual tastes!"
The onlookers burst into laughter at the boy's words.