Yousu Yue's ears twitched slightly, cautiously.
At this moment,
Song Brahman Mirror, who had resolved the entire Wutong Prefecture, was holding Jixia's slightly rigid body, giving a sidelong glance to Yousu Yue:
"What's with calling him young master?"
"Didn't you hear before what Aunt Song called him?"
The woman, dressed in a snow-white, gold-trimmed palace gown, had a rounded chest that seemed ready to burst, tightly embracing Jixia's arm, her pretty face filled with seriousness:
"Yue, you are my adopted child. Although you are not my daughter or disciple, you are the only junior Aunt Song has raised all these years."
"So, you should call him uncle, Uncle Song, or Uncle Ji, it's all fine, don't cross the generation barrier."
Uncle?
Yousu Yue looked at Song Brahman Mirror, who appeared young like her, yet much more mature.
She glanced at Jixia again, her little face flushed, full of dissatisfaction:
"Huh?"
"Why, Aunt Song?"
