If Song Zhuolan and her son did something to him, he wouldn't be so furious.
And yet, Song Zhuolan schemed on his old father, his wife, and his son!
Thinking about his old mother's death many years ago, Song Zhuohai knew that there was nothing Song Zhuolan couldn't do.
"The brush is made of a dead baby's hair. You know very well what you're up to!"
As soon as Song Zhuohai spoke, he directly threw the brush at Ye Nambo's face.
He truly didn't hold back at all.
Ye Nambo held his mother and didn't dodge. He frowned tight instead, looking a bit confused.
"Uncle…"
"Don't call me that. I can't afford you calling me uncle and I can't have a nephew like you."
As soon as Ye Nambo said that word, Song Zhuohai interrupted him mercilessly.
Song Zhuohai had already believed that Ye Nambo and Song Zhuolan were working together, so he certainly wouldn't be deceived by Ye Nambo's appearance.
