She neither left nor came closer, just stared at her.
Her eyes were not cloudy with age, but instead, were extremely clear, as if they saw right through something.
In almost an instant, Zhong Zhiwan's heartbeat stopped.
Swiftly, a layer of cold sweat broke out on her back, and beads of sweat also appeared on her forehead.
Zhong Zhiwan's heart churned wildly, and her face also lost its composure, turning pale as paper.
She forced a smile, one that was as ugly as a grimace, with a twisted mouth. Her voice was strained, "Grandpa... Grandpa."
Old Master Zhong remained emotionless, his hands behind his back, he said indifferently, "Wanwan, come with me."
Saying so, he proceeded upstairs first.
Zhong Zhiwan did not dare disobey; she pinched her fingers and quickly followed.
Her face was still hot and flushed, her mind somewhat foggy.
When had Old Master Zhong come back from the company?
And how much had he heard?