"Son, your hand?"
At this moment, Li Shuanzhu forgot about Li Guihua. In comparison, Li Xiang was still his son, naturally closer than Li Guihua.
Li Xiang pulled back his hand and calmly said to Li Guihua, "Aunt, you can go back. My dad won't give you money. My dad doesn't owe you a penny. From now on, if there's anything, don't come to our house. We can't afford to associate with an ungrateful wretch like you."
The calm tone puzzled Li Shuanzhu and also comforted him. His son had grown up and said what he always wanted to say.
Indeed.
He didn't owe Li Guihua.
If he owed anyone, it was only Liu Hong.
He owed no one else.
Li Guihua suddenly stood up, almost knocking over the rickety dining table. Li Lu quickly steadied the table, looking at her aunt with some schadenfreude.
She gave her brother a thumbs up.
Her brother was still powerful.
Her dad didn't dare say such things to Li Guihua, only her brother dared.
