Zhou Fan, carrying Chu Yan with one arm, came before Zhou Sihai and Zhao Qingshan. He wiped the playful expression from his face, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the two old men.
"Grandpa, I lost!" A bruised and swollen Zhao Yu came before Zhao Qingshan, head bowed, and said in a muffled voice.
"Be a man. So you lost, what of it? Hurry up and thank the Young Madam! If she hadn't pleaded for you, there's no telling how badly you would have been beaten!" Zhao Qingshan glared at Zhao Yu, scolding him in a low voice.
How could the two old foxes have missed the look Zhou Fan had just given Chu Yan?
But it was precisely because they saw it that they appreciated Zhou Fan even more. 'His method of winning people over is truly brilliant!'
From now on, Zhao Yu would probably be willing to die for Chu Yan. As for his attitude toward Zhou Fan, Zhou Fan himself likely never cared.
