"Now you got a taste of your own medicine," Yue said coldly, twisting both of the uncle's hands before letting go. Then he stood up and walked over to Hao.
"Hao, look at me. Let me check your wounds—are they serious?"
Yue gently pushed Hao down onto the sofa and leaned closer to inspect the blood on his nose and mouth.
But Hao's heart was pounding. The way Yue was showing so much care—it was too much. He couldn't hold back. He grabbed Yue's hand, pulled him onto his lap, and hugged him tightly.
Meanwhile, Liya had silently gone into the kitchen and returned with a frying pan in her hand—ready to kill her uncle if he dared move again.
Even though Hao was busy hugging Yue, he still noticed Liya standing there—holding a frying pan.
"Liya, why did you bring the frying pan?" he asked, which made Yue suddenly realize—they were still hugging, and Liya was right there watching.
Yue quickly got off Hao's lap and stood there, acting like nothing had happened.
