C72

Early in the morning, the atmosphere at the Hua family's dining table was rather weird.

Hua's father sat in the middle of the table, breathing heavily as he clashed with the plate of noodles. Hua's mother was like a brave holy warrior, pulling Lu Yuntao, whose face was darker than Bao Gong, to the side of the table.

"This is my son." In the middle of the table was a box of rotten red bean cakes