Looking at Lin Ling's scrawled characters, Song Tingfan was slightly angry but managed to restrain himself, "Why's your hand shaking?"
Lin Ling was about to cry. He never wanted his father to teach him again; he hated his father.
He sniffled, "I can't do it."
"I've taught you three times." Song Tingfan picked up the brush and wrote again on the paper, then signaled Lin Ling to write.
Lin Qiao looked at Lin Ling; the child was smart but playful. He didn't want to write after doing it for too long; he was just being emotional.
Seeing him obediently follow along and write, she raised an eyebrow; truly, "villains" are matched by their "villain" fathers.
Alright, she couldn't help but feel a bit sympathetic.
"I'm going to make pancakes."
"Mom, I'll help you with the fire." Lin Ling said with a sad face.
Lin Qiao ruthlessly refused him, "You focus on your writing; your father is teaching you calligraphy with great effort."
