Nan Juefeng thought for a while, and then said: "Does An An know the reason why uncle doesn't go home to have dinner with An An?!"
"..." After hearing this, Yang Muan frowned, thought carefully, and then shook his head innocently.
Nan Juefeng changed his posture and hugged Yang Mu'an. Although he did like this little thing, it was really painful for Yang Mu'an, who had finally gained a little fat after not seeing each other for a while, to press on his gunshot wound.
Nan Juefeng asked seriously: "That's because: Aunt Wen is sick and hospitalized, and uncle is with her in the hospital. An'an thinks, which is more important, Aunt Wen, or dinner."
This time, Yang Mu'an did not hesitate and said unceremoniously: "Aunt Wen."
"That's right." Nan Juefeng seemed to be educating his son, "Then tell Dad Feng if An An can lose her temper with uncle."
"..." Yang Muan shook his head, his eyes were like those of a puppy, extremely pitiful.
Nan Juefeng touched his little head, and secretly sighed in his heart: This little guy is so young and kind, and so cute; on the other hand, he had to admit: Damn, admire Mu Fan's son is too easy to fool.
The study room without lights was shockingly dark, spreading darkness and silence.
Yang Mufan sat in front of the desk, maintaining a posture, motionless, as if he was a statue without any consciousness.
The tall and straight silhouette became increasingly cold and resolute in the darkness, exuding an aggressive and cold aura.
Boom~boom~boom.
A soft, low knock on the door suddenly broke the dead silence of the room.
But listening to the knock on the door, Yang Mufan could already imagine how timid and cautious the other party was.
After frowning, Yang Mufan didn't move or make a sound.
It was quiet for a while, then the knock on the door sounded weak and dull again.
When Yang Mufan was trying to figure out who was knocking on the door, Yang Muan's frail and worried voice sounded vaguely through the thick wooden door.
"Uncle...Uncle...Can An An come in?!"
Hearing that the person knocking on the door was actually his son, Yang Mufan was not only surprised, but also particularly confused. In addition to his appearance, he felt that Yang Mu'an looked like him, and his temper was undoubtedly like him.
Before he took the initiative to seek peace, how could that little thing take the initiative to come to him?!
Just as Yang Mufan was in a trance, the sound of "creeping~ creaking" could be heard from the thick wooden door being pushed open.
Without hesitation, Yang Mufan turned on the lamp on the desk.
In an instant, the originally dark room was illuminated by orange lights.
Yang Mufan's narrow black eyes immediately captured Yang Muan, who was standing at the door, looking a little nervous. He twisted his handsome eyebrows, was silent for a moment, and then asked in a low and concise voice: "Is something wrong?!"
Hearing this, Yang Mufan not only misunderstood, but for some other reason, he actually saw: Yang Muan pulled back his ears and shrank his neck, as if he had done something wrong and was waiting to be taught a lesson.
Yang Muan stood at the door, hemming and hawing for a long time, but could not say a smooth word. When Yang Mufan tried to coax others, he suddenly said something else: "Uncle, are you still angry with An An?
