Facing the pitch-black face of his own father, the little guy took a sip of his milk, his large, shiny eyes calmly looking at him: "Being first place every time is so boring. I wanted to taste what it's like to be last, so I left half of the test paper blank."
Standing by, Uncle Yu twitched the corner of his mouth, unsure whether to call the young master wise and brave or simply naïve. But what he knew clearly was that the father valued the young master's French grades immensely, almost more than his native language.
As expected, Mu Shuoqian's face grew somber, his voice tinged with extreme displeasure: "Is that the reason?"
The little guy nodded vigorously, taking a sip of milk and biting into a sandwich, sensing that the person sitting opposite him didn't look too pleased. He offered his sandwich to his father coyly, rolling his eyes pleadingly: "Daddy, here, your favorite sandwich. I saved it especially for you."
