While Mu Tingfeng was being careless in his words, Zhao Youlin seized the opportunity by bending her right hand agilely and elbowing his stomach swiftly, accurately, and mercilessly. Mu Tingfeng grunted in pain and let go of his hand that he had wrapped around Zhao Youlin's waist.
Zhao Youlin dodged Mu Tingfeng in a flash and moved out of his arms.
Even though Zhao Youlin had spoken very softly, the people who stood close to them had heard her words.
Mu Wanting was young, but she grew up in the main residence and met many people from various backgrounds. Therefore, she became mature rapidly. How could she not understand Zhao Youlin's hint of scorn and mockery in her words?
As such, she became even more unhappy. In her eyes, Uncle Tingfeng was a very capable man, and he was the epitome of a perfect man. He was the one whom she admired the most, and she looked up to him. Even her parents did not weigh as much as him in her heart.