As soon as Lu Zechuan spoke, a wisp of white smoke emerged from the small clay pot at Xia Liang's waist.
The figure in the white smoke was somewhat ethereal, but vaguely resembled a kind-hearted old man.
But now, the old man appeared a bit anxious, "Dear grandson, why didn't you take grandpa with you? Grandpa wants to see the place where your mother lives..."
Lu Zechuan's expression was stern, his tone indifferent, "No!"
The old man deflated immediately, pleading pitifully, "Dear grandson, take me with you, please!"
Lu Zechuan remained unmoved. He had little emotional attachment to this grandfather, and playing the sentimental card on him wouldn't work.
Seeing that Lu Zechuan was unmoved, the old man felt a bit disheartened, drooping his head as he gloomily retreated back into his Soul Nourishing Pot.
