"Wrong," Ye Rongyuan corrected him. "And my parents, my second brother, and me."
Ou Yangfu felt like: Wasn't he stating the obvious? Could it be that the little painter would attend the banquet alone?
Ye Rongyuan yawned again. "Is there anything else?"
"No," Ou Yangfu, seeing him looking exhausted, asked wonderingly, "Didn't you skip work at the group today? Why do you look so tired?"
Ye Rongyuan wasn't angry at all, even a bit proud, he raised his eyebrows smugly. "You don't know this. Playing with kids is exhausting."
As far as he knew, Ou Yangfu was the youngest child in the Ou family, and he was nineteen years old, hardly a kid anymore. His statement had a lot of boasting in it.
Ou Yangfu wasn't blind or deaf; he could see and hear it. He looked at Ye Rongyuan as if he had seen a ghost, sizing him up. "I've never seen you so childish before?"