Tang Jing came over, pretending to squeeze Han Qiwu's biceps, but his hand suddenly shifted and darted toward his abs with remarkable speed.
But Han Qiwu was even faster to react. Before Tang Jing could land his 'attack,' he raised both hands to block Tang Jing's move and grinned, "Brother Jing, if you want to see my abs, just say so. Eight-pack, no problem."
Tang Jing raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Xiao Han, your reflexes are impressive. Can farming train you for this sort of thing?"
"Maybe I'm just naturally gifted." Han Qiwu chuckled and walked outside to start grilling fish.
Behind him, Tang Jing nodded quietly to himself.
Tang Jing wasn't a fool. After these few encounters, he'd more or less picked up on Han Qiwu's feelings for his niece.
His brother, Tang Qingying's father, didn't interact much with his daughter, always entrusting Tang Jing to look after her.
From Tang Jing's perspective, he had no objections whatsoever.
