Mo Ziye looked at his mother's slightly pale face and unconcealable worry, and spoke calmly and peacefully.
"Yes, Ranran, your hand got burned. If you don't treat it quickly, it'll blister."
Before Bai Yiyi could finish speaking, Mo Xiuchen had already pulled Wen Ran to the bathroom.
The originally joyful and lively New Year's Eve was covered with a thick shadow.
Although Old Man An and Old Man Qin had already retired for the night, they still made phone calls immediately at that moment.
Mo Ziye went outside and dialed Chu Junming's number to understand the whole situation.
Just after hanging up, another call came in.
Seeing Shi Xi's name on the caller ID, Mo Ziye narrowed his cold eyes and answered the call, "Hello."
"Ziye, I just heard my dad make a call..."
On New Year's Eve, the temperature gradually dropped, and the man's handsome and indifferent figure was shrouded in coldness, his grip on the phone tightening inch by inch.
