Song Qinghe returned home and removed his tie.
He collapsed wearily into the sofa.
Mrs. Song could tell, even though he looked tired, his mood was quite good.
"Old Song, how is it? How's Dad doing now?"
Although she felt completely unsatisfied with the old man's favoritism, holding onto resentment.
But she understood the importance of the old man.
Without the old man, the Song family's influence would be reduced by at least half.
They still relied on the Song family's name; without the old man, what would they be?
They'd have to obediently make way for others.
Even the Wu family wouldn't miss an opportunity to kick them when they're down.
"Dad's much better now; he scared me out of my wits today, Dad almost didn't make it."
Song Qinghe talked about today's incident with cold sweat still dripping down his back.
If the old man had really been poisoned, their family would have been completely unprepared. Even if he tried something, it would have taken time.
