Xiaozhou is, after all, a grandpa with greying hair, not some little kid. If he had to be hit for dirtying a pair of pants, he'd truly need the 1818 Gold Eye or Old Uncle to handle such an inhumane family relationship.
Those programs are pretty good at mediating anyway, but the last time Lin Li called them and asked if they could mediate the Russia-Ukraine war, the operator cursed him out.
There's no mutual understanding in the joys and sorrows of people; their moods are different.
Lin Li's thoughts were spreading out, while the words Lin Li just said were swirling and echoing in Zhou Youwei's mind, but he still felt he couldn't comprehend them.
Did I hear wrong?
"Lin Li, what... did you say?" Zhou Youwei swallowed a mouthful of saliva and asked.
"Hmm?"
This reaction was a bit strange.
Lin Li raised an eyebrow; did he mess up his reading comprehension just now?
Thinking it over, Lin Li still repeated, "Grandpa, this chair's varnish was just painted, it hasn't dried yet."
