At this moment, Xiao Pingan was swiftly taken by three burly men to a renowned Noble Son's Club in the Capital City.
Fong Yi watched on.
The boy, his eyes clouded with confusion, asked, "Who are you?"
Bang...
The sound of a porcelain cup shattering and the thud of it hitting the table surface.
"Useless trash, to be injured by a catamite in his room and then to make such a disgraceful spectacle in public," the Fong Family Head, Fong Laiyi, seethed with anger at the black-clad man reporting to her, "Where is that catamite now?"
The forty-something-year-old Fong Laiyi, well-maintained, looked to be just over thirty years old. Though at a matronly age, one could still see the beauty and elegance of her youth.
