In the little western-style house, Ye Qingtian sat quietly on the sofa, without turning on the lights in the room.
"Click!"
Ye Kuangfeng strode into the room like a dragon or a tiger and turned on the lights.
"Why aren't the lights on? What are you up to? Trying to scare people?"
Ye Kuangfeng stared at Ye Qingtian and questioned him.
Ye Qingtian ignored him, or rather, didn't even look at him.
Seeing this, Ye Kuangfeng smiled helplessly.
"Fine, I won't ask about that. But I want to ask what's the matter with you coming back now? I heard you want to mourn for your mother? Don't you know how your mother died? And why didn't you come back all these years for mourning, but just now?"
Ye Kuangfeng asked.
Ye Qingtian suddenly showed a strange smile: "Don't rush, I'll answer everything in seven days, and settle the accounts with you all then!"
During the mourning period for his mother, he didn't like to take action.
"Bastard, what nonsense are you talking?"
Ye Kuangfeng raged.
