Ye Xuan's words and the genuine pain on his face shocked the old man.
"What vegetative state? What are you talking about? Child, I'm old, and my ears are no good. I might also have Parkinson's, so I don't understand what you're saying." The old man quickly composed himself, no longer wanting to talk to Ye Xuan anymore.
He held his dog's leash and put his fingers in his mouth to whistle.
A middle-aged man ran over from the other side of the road and smiled very humbly at him. "Is something wrong, Mr. Vanderbilt? Do you want to go home?"
He glanced at Ye Xuan and got a strong impression from his mixed-race features and tall figure.
The old man looked at Ye Xuan and originally wanted to make him go away. When he saw the dejection, disbelief, and a bit of hesitation on his face, he changed the words that were almost about to leave his mouth. "Take the dog back home. I'm going to walk some more."
