Mu Qian's eyes glanced between Ding Chenmo and Wen Jiaren, then he walked toward the Mu Family hall, cradling the dejected little baby, leaving behind the chaotic disparagement of women and the playful discussion of men.
The little baby clung to his father's neck and whispered in his ear, "Daddy, go snatch that auntie for me; Xiao'er really likes her."
Mu Qian looked at his son, who wore a half-mask on his face, and calmly uttered a few words, "But she doesn't like you."
After hearing this, the little baby felt desolate and sad, lying on his father's shoulder. Mu Qian coldly said, "Mu Xiao, no crying."
The little baby bit his lip, his voice tinged with sobs, "Why does she not like me? Is it because Xiao'er looks very scary?"
Mu Qian's body trembled; he could feel the intense insecurity emanating from his little son. His handsome face completely darkened, intimidatingly cold, his voice harsh and bloodthirsty, "Who told you that?"
