He Is Just a Dead Man

He's just a dead man.

Li Zheng stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at him. "Little Yang, don't be stubborn. Just listen to father for once, okay?"

"No, that's not good. Last time, you said you wanted me to give up. I let you go, but the face you're cherishing doesn't have any admirers, so it became a different kind of admirer."

Mo Zhengyang looked at his father and gently shook his head with reddened eyes. "I've been thinking, if I didn't listen to you before, would I have gotten a face of mercy now …"

"That will never happen …"

Li Zheng interrupted him, but before he could finish, he was interrupted again by Mo Zhengyang.

"How can you know the result if you haven't tried it?"

At this moment, Mo Zhengyang's mood was a bit agitated. His serious gaze was tainted with a trace of malice, "Father, this time, I won't give up before you clearly say 'no' to me."

"Shut up!"