"Of course," Han Cunming was in a good mood now. "I can't count on any of you. You only listen after you're pushed into a corner and someone comes knocking on your door."
Han Guangzhi's head drooped. He knew it—he wasn't his father's son anymore. Nowadays, Han Tingting was the one his dad valued most.
As Han Cunming lectured his son, Li's parents naturally wouldn't interject. In fact, the more strained things became between Han Cunming and Han Guangzhi, the happier they were. In his current state, Han Guangzhi was truly no different from a live-in son-in-law.
"Alright, I'll go with you tomorrow. She hasn't paid any child support since Tingting turned ten. At six thousand a year, that's forty-eight thousand for eight years." Realizing this was two thousand more than what he just paid, Han Guangzhi suddenly felt at ease.
Han Cunming scoffed. "Tingting, don't go tomorrow. Your dad and I will take care of this."
