At the mention of the mother and son, Madam Chen subconsciously thought of that little bastard who looked like Shen Pingxiu. She gritted her teeth and said angrily, "Of course they have to die."
"No," Shen Wenbo said.
"What?" Madam Chen did not expect her only son to refute her. She jumped up from her chair and screamed in disbelief, "Even you have to stop Mother? Don't tell me you can't bear to see that it's your father's son? That's a bastard, not your brother."
"Mother." Shen Wenbo rubbed his forehead with a headache. He personally poured a cup of tea and handed it over. He comforted her, "Listen to me first."
Madam Chen took a deep breath and sat back down.
"Mother, if we want to resolve this matter, we have to do it from the root. This mother and son are the root of the issue."
The mother and son discussed in the reception pavilion for an hour before a maidservant rushed in.
