In his excitement, he almost blurted out, "My own daughter picked it with her own hands."
Ling Anxun's gaze darkened. He immediately sensed something was wrong.
He slowly leaned forward, his voice dropping low.
"Your own what? Go on."
Cao Daqiang instantly clamped his mouth shut, clenching his jaw. He refused to utter another word.
He turned and shoved his daughter, who had been hiding behind him, forward, urging her in a low voice.
"Jiajia, quickly, thank Mr. Ling. Beg him not to be angry with us."
But Ling Anxun had a cold, stern-looking face.
Just sitting there, he exuded an imposing aura that sent a chill down the spine.
A young girl like Jiajia, standing before him now, could barely keep her legs from buckling.
She opened and closed her mouth, but her throat was too tight for a single word to escape.
Annoyed, Ling Anxun waved a dismissive hand.
"That's enough. A bunch of troublemakers. Get them all out."
