Ye Qingci glared playfully at Jian Shichu: "Jian Shichu, look at you, you're not even as good as your son!"
"I was never as good as my son," Seventh Master Jian elegantly cut into his breakfast on the plate and said unhurriedly, "My son has extraordinary talent, is a natural prodigy. Even three of me combined can't match my son's talents. My son is the most sensible in the world, much better than me... Oh, I'm talking about my eldest son, not the two little ones."
Ye Qingci: "..."
Although the two little ones are indeed not as worry-free as Xiao Ah Ling, no matter what, they're your biological sons. Disliking your own sons like this isn't good, Seventh Master Jian!
Laosan doesn't care if his dad likes him or not; he only knows he's won the battle for mom's attention.
He hugged Ye Qingci's neck, kissing her face repeatedly, leaving her entire face smeared with drool.
"Mu... mu..." he called out while reaching to tug at Ye Qingci's clothes.
Ye Qingci: "..."
