Qi Haoran angrily wrote a letter to Qi Xiuyuan. He originally wanted to teach his son a lesson, but in the end, he ultimately couldn't bear to do so. He wondered if that kid understood what he'd said.
Seeing that his handwriting had almost penetrated through the paper, Mu Yangling knew that he was still fuming. She held his hand and said, "Alright, children are like a piece of white paper. At three years old, there's so much that he doesn't know. There's a limit to what we can teach him, and there's also a limit to how much he can remember. Now that he knows that he shouldn't ask for red packets after the first month of the Lunar New Year, he naturally won't goof up like this in the future…"
Qi Haoran threw the pen on the table with a faint anger on his face. "So what if my son asks them for red packets? There are so many people who are eager to give him red packets but don't have the opportunity to. If they dare to look at him mockingly with me around, what about in private?"
