He sat on the sofa, but his eyes were fixed on Li Zhiyan's bag of money.
"Just some homemade dishes."
The indifference in Han Xueying's voice was so evident that Li Zhiyan, who was in the master bedroom, could hear it clearly; he knew very well that Han Xueying was truly hurt, not just a little, but profoundly.
If Yin Fengxiang sincerely repented and spent three to five years mending the mother-son relationship, honestly being a good son, there might have been a chance for reconciliation.
But in this beast's mind, there was only money, thinking of how to sell his own mother for it.
For Yin Fengxiang, the concept of conscience simply didn't exist.
"Mhm, mom."
After sitting for a while, Yin Fengxiang saw that Han Xueying wasn't in the mood to talk to him, he took out a towel, completely unable to restrain himself any longer, he just wanted to quickly get the 400,000!
He tiptoed toward the kitchen.