Huo Zhenyang's gaze sharpened, but the fingertips holding her chin softened inexplicably.
Finally, he reversed her grip and no longer objected to her suggestion to take Little Doubao to a psychologist.
She felt the sour jealousy emanating from him dissipate, sticking out her tongue slightly and letting out a breath of relief.
Before she could fully exhale, Huo Zhenyang solemnly added,
"Even if he's my nephew, there has to be a limit; you can't treat him too well. Besides, Little Doubao is a boy after all, and he's not that young anymore—he's already six years old. Boys at this age start to develop crushes on the opposite sex easily. Kids nowadays fall in love early; if he started school soon, he could even have a little girlfriend by now. You get what I mean, right?"
This man who could eat jealousy from his nephew and even his own son was truly difficult to deal with.
