Inside the hall.
Rong Fangjun walked back and forth with a cane, occasionally glancing outside the door, feeling a complex mix of emotions.
A few days ago, when he received a call from Yao Guang and heard that Rong Zhi was still in contact with that family, he was indeed quite anxious. After all, the attitude of Rong Xian'an and the others was clear. It was normal for Rong Zhi to not be close to them.
But Rong Zhi was still the child of the Rong Family, and they were all one family. They couldn't just separate from each other.
Rong Xian'an couldn't bring himself to ask Rong Zhi to come home, so it fell to him, the old man, to take advantage of his seniority.
While pondering this, he saw a black silhouette approaching from a distance.
A young boy with his eyebrows down, his eyes tinged with weariness, appeared lazy and indifferent. His figure was thinner than other boys his age, looking somewhat fragile.
"Third one," Rong Fangjun called excitedly.
