"Meixiu," Yang Mujian beckoned the woman forward.
She had stood by his grandson's side for nine years now and the decade anniversary was just a few months away, but she was easily discarded like trash.
It was heartless for Yang Mujian to think this, but he was impressed by Yang Feng's behavior. One would find it hard to abandon something they've grown accustomed to, but his grandson did it within the blink of an eye. It showed Yang Feng was not one to become easily attached to something and that was a good sign for Elder Yang who prioritized having a heart of stone. The less Yang Feng felt anything, the better.
Yang Mujian believed Yang Feng did not need to rule the Underworld with a heart, for emotions like pity led to cowardly antics. He'd prefer his grandson to not even have a soul or good moral compass. All Yang Feng needed was an iron fist to clamp down on the people.
