"Mom, Yang Fan indeed knows some friends, Dad will be fine trust me," Zimo Tang naturally knew what Yang Fan was planning to do; she had no choice but to rely on Yang Fan now.
Liu Shufang still didn't quite believe it, as she didn't know Yang Fan, only managing to mutter, "Really?"
"Mom, don't worry about it." After comforting her for a while, Zimo Tang walked with Yang Fan to the door. "Yang Fan, do you have a solution for this?"
"What do you think?"
Yang Fan's response made Zimo Tang laugh: "I get it now, just be careful." She didn't know of anything Yang Fan couldn't handle.
"Who's there?" Suddenly, a shadow flitted past the staircase entrance, and Yang Fan immediately shouted.
The shadow slowly ascended the stairs: "Auntie, it's me."
Zimo Tang recognized him too; it was her sister's son, Zhang Xiaojun, fifteen years old, still in high school. "Xiaojun, what's up?"
"Nothing, I just got back from school," Zhang Xiaojun whispered.
