Upon hearing this, the mannequin-like woman's pupil dilated slightly.

Liu Hong pinched the woman's chin and looked at her face carefully. Although she was beautiful, the years were unforgiving. She had wrinkles on the side of her eyes.

“Yes, he looks like you. That little monk is your son.” Liu Hong said in a low voice.

“He…”

Without giving the woman a chance to continue speaking, Liu Hong slapped her face and reprimanded, “How many times have I told you that you’re not allowed to speak in this house?!”

The woman looked at him in horror and Liu Hong reached out his hand. The woman saw it as a sign of forgiveness and began to lick Liu Hong's calloused palm intensely.

Liu Hong continued to say in a very low voice, “Li Biao’s case was too risky, but there was no way out of it. Who told...