Bo Qingshan literally rolled into Bo Yanching's hands, turned over, and looked up at his uncle's cold Yama-like face. After a moment of bewilderment, he chuckled twice, "Uncle, what a coincidence."
Bo Yanching snorted coldly.
What a coincidence my ass.
"Eavesdropping was fun?"
"I wasn't, I didn't, I really was going to leave, but some mysterious force pulled me back," Bo Qingshan lied shamelessly, glanced at Nan Jiaojiao beside him, bit his thin lips, and turned his head away, frustrated and embarrassed.
Before he could even strike a pose to maintain what was left of his dignity, his collar was yanked from behind, his neck suddenly tightened, and he let out a breath, feeling as if fate was choking him.
