Mo Shiting's lips twitched, "Grandfather, I'm not that bad."
"Hmph!"
The old man snorted defiantly, "You're not bad, but my little Pear is better."
Mo Shiting: "..."
So Gu Li isn't a Gu, but a Mo?
But it does not matter what her family name is because they are no longer relevant to him.
As he pondered over this, he could not control the growing pain in his heart. He wasn't sure whether it was a heartache or the pain from his wound.
Luckily, his pain was well masked and the old man did not notice it.
"When you attended your father-in-law's birthday banquet this time, was he satisfied with you?"
Old Master Mo asked attentively.
On this same day in previous years, the grandfather and grandson would remain silent, each immersed in their own memories of the late Mo Xinghe, creating a melancholic and heavy atmosphere.
This year, however, with the addition of an angelic Gu Li to their lives, a ray of hope was finally brought to them.