Yanyan, their fluffy five-year-old, had just bought himself a customizable magic spear forged from S-Class materials—for the modest price of 5.3 million dollars.
Five. Point. Three. Million. The kind of money most people wouldn't see in a lifetime vanished in the span of one unsupervised moment.
"Oh, come on, Tingfeng, don't look like we've just lost our entire fortune," Shen Yuan sighed, though his chest tightened inside. "It's only a fraction of what we'll make back tonight. Besides, this one's on us as parents."
"Papa… I'm sorry." Yanyan tugged at his alpha father's pants, lips pushed into a pout, and his eyes were shining just enough to sting the heart.
Bai Tingfeng swallowed hard and looked away. He wasn't angry—just conflicted. If they let this slide, what was to stop Yanyan from treating money like confetti in the future? There is no way he will let Yanyan grow up with a crooked attitude towards money.
