Ian Douglas was so angry his head was spinning, his emotions were very agitated, and with a loud bang, he slapped the table again, making the octagonal hardwood table shake twice.
Matthew Saxon curled his lips slightly. Compared to Ian Douglas's anger and agitation, his emotions seemed completely unaffected, his eyes calm and undisturbed, as he said: "I wouldn't dare, I'm hoping that you, sir, can live a long life. But considering how you keep flying off the handle, I'm a bit worried for you. After all, people with bad tempers don't usually live long. Grandpa, even for the sake of living a bit longer, you should work on that temper of yours."
"What did you say, you little brat, are you cursing me to die early?!" Ian Douglas's face first turned livid, and after Matthew Saxon finished speaking, his entire face went dark.
His face was as dark as the bottom of a pot.
In a fit of rage, he grabbed something and threw it at Matthew Saxon.
