Maternal Auntie Wen lowered her eyes, "Yes."
On the other side, in the car.
The atmosphere was bone-chillingly cold.
Han Che couldn't help but shrink back, nervously glancing at the rear-view mirror, "Master, with the old man like this, why don't you investigate who's not a biological child?"
Bo Yanching suddenly opened his eyes. His head was resting against the seat back, with his eyeballs sliding downward, eyelids half-closed, staring straight at the back of Han Che's head.
The immense pressure terrified Han Che, making his hands and feet feel cold, "I'm sorry, Master!"
He found it extremely strange.
Family members couldn't be this indifferent.
His own son died and was buried hastily, ignored even though poisoned, and after his death, on the seventh day, in the vast Bo Residence, only a patch of empty land was allocated—so perfunctory.
Perhaps he wasn't a biological child.
But if Bo Mu wasn't a biological child, then Bo Yanching wouldn't be a Bo family member.
