That could, in the future, bring glory to the ancestors. When he heard that Ye Shaohua might even affect his eldest son's career path, he straightened his face, "It's getting late. Do not delay the journey."
Aunt Mei originally had a glimmer of hope for Ye Qingweng.
When she heard his words, her heart chilled by half.
Ye Shaohua had already boarded the carriage.
Not surprised at all by Ye Qingweng's words.
"Mother, we're leaving." She lifted the tattered curtain and glanced over at Aunt Mei.
This body was only eleven years old, but those dark eyes did not resemble the eyes of an eleven-year-old child at all.
When Ye Qingweng met those imposing eyes, his heart couldn't help but shudder; this was definitely not the look his fourth son should have.
"I must have seen it wrong," Ye Qingweng shook his head, "It seems I've been too tired recently."
How could he not know his fourth son?