While the old couple enjoyed their quiet moment together, Song Chengjun walked out of the house with his wife by his side and stopped when they saw their son preparing to leave.
"Song Chengfeng," he called, his voice calm yet heavy with authority.
The younger man froze mid-step, his hand on the car door.
"Dad, Mom," he greeted, closing the door and facing them.
"I never taught you to be rude to your grandparents. How could you just walk out like that?" His father's tone carried clear disapproval, his eyes cold and stern.
Song Chengfeng said nothing. He lowered his head in silent acknowledgment, accepting his fault without argument. He waited, shoulders tense, for his father to finish speaking so he could finally leave.
But how could a father not understand his own son? The quiet defiance in his son's posture only deepened Song Chengjun's irritation. For the first time, he truly understood why his own father could never stay calm when dealing with this boy.
