As for how long the seclusion would last, Mo Yifeng wasn't sure.
He could only continue to wait.
The days passed by slowly.
Mo Yifeng settled down for the time being, and Young Yu'er, who was usually lively and playful, found himself powerless around Mo Yifeng. Compared to his father, he seemed to fear this great-grandfather more.
Early morning, in the garden arranged by the Qu Clan.
Mo Yifeng, dressed in white as pure as snow, leaned casually against a post, his gaze lightly sweeping over the small figure sitting cross-legged in the courtyard. Occasionally, the little one would slightly open a slit of his eyes, thinking he was stealthily watching Mo Liancheng without being noticed.
Mo Liancheng nearly laughed. This little one truly believed he was being sneaky, pretending to cultivate with such focus, so he gently asked, "Yu'er, how long has it been since I personally supervised you?"
The little one remained silent, unmoving.
