Bai Qingyan sat in a sedan chair from Qinghui Courtyard to the main hall in the front yard. Li Mingrui had been waiting in the main hall for a long time.
Li Mingrui lowered his gaze, tightly gripping the hem of his robe, biting his teeth. His face didn't look good. For Li Mingrui, the old man was different from other people. Apart from being a lifesaver for him and his mother, the old man was more like a senior to Li Mingrui. Although he didn't talk much, he would always be a listener to Li Mingrui.
At home, his father, Li Mao, the Left Prime Minister, was very busy. His mother couldn't understand him. Being the eldest son of the family, he was strictly demanded by his father and had high expectations from his mother.
There were some words he could only say to the taciturn old man.
The old man never commented on Li Mingrui's words. But whenever Li Mingrui showed a bit of sadness, he would gently pat his head like a senior. Li Mingrui was very fond of the old man's little warmth.
