He Jingyao stretched out his hand to soothe his brow, repeatedly telling himself to stay calm.
"Okay, Father," his voice was very calm, yet there was an imperceptible gloominess in it, "What exactly do you want by locking me in the study?"
"What do I want? It should be me asking you, what exactly do you want?" He Yirong's temper also flared up, "Do you think I don't know what you've been up to? Your expansion in Yangdong City over these years has been quite conspicuous. I thought you knew your limits, so I didn't intervene much before; but now, you're actually thinking of meddling directly in the President's election? You are too bold!"
Only then did He Jingyao realize what He Yirong was upset about.
"You're overestimating me," his expression slightly relaxed as he spoke with a light smile, "I'm not that capable."
