Bo Sishen opened the door to find Bao Tinghao standing at the entrance with a violin on his back.
Bo Sishen's slender fingers moved gracefully and naturally on the buttons of his shirt, yet it conveyed an immense amount of information.
Bao Tinghao watched his second uncle, disheveled and emerging from the room with unkempt hair, his eyes darkened. He stared blankly at Bo Sishen, "Second Uncle, what were you doing in the room?"
"What do you think?" Bo Sishen lowered his eyes to look at Bao Tinghao, his gaze shifting from desire to indifference.
Bao Tinghao's eyes remained fixed on Bo Sishen, observing the disfigured face he wore, and he quickly understood what had transpired.
"Second Uncle, our bet isn't over yet." Bao Tinghao spoke without confidence, looking at Bo Sishen's face.
Bo Sishen's gaze was cold, his voice hoarse and deep, "Tinghao, is there any meaning in continuing?"
