As Jian Jian walked back to his so-called home, the sky was already covered with thin red clouds.
"Master."
As soon as he stepped into the house, the housekeeper looked at him with a sad face.
"What's the matter?"
"I'm looking for you. I'm sitting in the living room right now. But when I call you, I can't get through."
Jian Jian waved his hand, "I understand."
"Master..."
Jian Yi turned around and looked at the housekeeper who was over a hundred years old and had worked hard in Jian's family for most of his life, "What's the matter?"
"Master, you are the oldest person I have seen since I was a child. In fact, I just care about you. At best, I use the wrong method of caring. You must not be like me. I am old and can't stand the excitement."
Jian Jian didn't speak, but just stared at the other side blankly. Seeing that he didn't speak, the housekeeper sighed secretly and said, "Master, please."
This father and son have never smiled at each other since his wife's death, especially since the incident six years ago. They really don't know what to say or how to solve it.
The housekeeper shook his head and looked at the back of the simple man walking slowly in front of him.
Jian Zhenghai had been sitting in the living room for a long time. It was obvious that he had just gotten up out of anger. His eyes were bloodshot and he glared at the Jian Yi standing in front of him.
"Jian Yi, come here!"
Jian Yi walked over. Jian Zhenghai, who was wearing a coat, waved the crutch in his hand towards him...