After his mother left, she had left him this vase. As long as the vase was there, his mother would always be with him. Now, the vase is shattered, can it ever be as it was? This proves that the vase is gone, and the last bit of warmth his mother left him is gone as well.
Xia Qingqian was brutally kicked by Beitang Yao, and her half-squatting body fell hard to the ground. Her tender hand was also cut by the sharp fragments, and a gush of fresh blood flowed from the wound, dripping onto the vase, so glaring.
At this moment, a silhouette clad in black, cold and distant, appeared at the door, "Young Master." Accompanied by a voice no less cold than Beitang Yao's own unique tone, it floated into everyone's ears.
After Beitang Yao gave Xia Qingqian a harsh kick, that person urgently called out.
"Ye Feng, handle the situation here as you see fit!" Beitang Yao glanced coldly at the man called Ye Feng, his brows never relaxing for a moment.
