Xiang Yan threw his clothes on the bed and said angrily, "Is it so difficult for you to wear clothes?!"

Xiang Yan can even be said to be a bit rude, he has almost never lost his temper in front of his youngest son, Ye Xiaolou curled up on the bed, tremblingly retorted: "It's dad who is unreasonable! I don't want to wear it!"

The housekeeper knocked twice on the door in a low voice. In fact, even if he didn't knock, his footsteps could be heard in the quiet room.

"Come in!"

Ye Xiaolou sat on the bed, clutching his clothes tightly, looking at the gloomy father in front of him with aggrieved and vigilant eyes, like a poor little animal trying to protect himself but couldn't help trembling.

The housekeeper noticed that it was the first pajamas given to him before, and he bought the rest when he bought clothes for Xiang Shaochen many years ago.

But what the housekeeper didn't know was that this pajamas was the first gift Ye Xiaolou got after he came to this world. Once a well-behaved and obedient child makes a fuss, it is actually very troublesome.

"Daddy tore my clothes..." Ye Xiaolou complained pitifully.

housekeeper:"……"

The two were at odds, which made the senior housekeeper a little embarrassed, for a moment he didn't know who to persuade first, Xiang Yan was fine when he entered the door, who would have thought that Ye Xiaolou's face would change when he arrived.

Of course the housekeeper understood that Xiang Yan hadn't lost his temper yet. If he really lost his temper, even the housekeeper who had been by his side for so many years might have to consider whether to come in or not.

It's just that the way he stares at his youngest son so closely is almost a little scary. Ye Xiaolou looks fearless, but in fact he is a little trembling in his heart.

The butler has been in this family for so many years, and he soon realized that in this situation, he must first coax this awkward young man.

Fortunately, Ye Xiaolou's quarrel was quick to go, and he raised his head to look at Xiang Yan, and quickly said: "Daddy help me wear it, and I will wear it as soon as Daddy helps me."

The housekeeper calmly persuaded: "Sir, someone is here to make new clothes for you. You can't see people without clothes. Young master, it would be bad if people saw this, don't you think?"

Ye Xiaolou froze for a moment, then nodded hastily, like a frightened little animal, his face turned pale.

Xiang Yan himself was not very angry, but the look just now made him inexplicably unhappy, and Ye Xiaolou's appearance made him a little soft-hearted.

"If it breaks, it will break. Dad will buy you a new one."

Xiang Yan's expression softened, and he picked up his clothes and put them on Ye Xiaolou. After all, he was not willing to reprimand his younger son for such a trivial matter. After all, Ye Xiaolou was different from his own son Xiang Shaochen. The son was raised much more delicately than his previous sons, and he couldn't stand any grievances.

When Zhang Jingzhi and his assistant came in, Ye Xiaolou was still leaning in Xiang Yan's arms, humming and acting like a baby. He was obedient when he was being fitted for him, but his eyebrows were slightly frowned and his lips were tightly pursed when he was close to the body. Yes, never said a word.

Zhang Jingzhi originally thought that this young man was favored at a young age, but after all, he never lived by Xiang Yan's side since he was a child, unlike his elder brother Xiang Shaochen.But he inadvertently saw Ye Xiaolou's sideways face, which was delicate and indifferent, and the slightly raised Danfeng eyes were calm and unmoving.Zhang Jingzhi, who was used to seeing the sons of a wealthy family, felt that he was Xiang Yan's son after all, no matter what his status was, there was no lack of dignity in his bones.

He doesn't like people to approach him, and he doesn't like to make noise. Ye Xiaolou is like a real young master of aristocratic family, polite and alienated to others, but in front of close people like Xiang Yan, he is completely different.

Ye Xiaolou's figure was well-proportioned and thin, and he didn't move when he was being measured, but in Xiang Yan's eyes, no matter how he looked at it, he felt that his youngest son had been wronged.

"It won't be long before the young master's 16th birthday, and I just want to make some for the young master, Mr. Zhang please."

The housekeeper took a look at Xiang Yan's eyes and knew that he never liked Ye Xiaolou's contact with outsiders, so he took Zhang Jingzhi away as soon as he was busy here.

"what happened?"

Ye Xiaolou suddenly came back to his senses, at some point Xiang Yan stood behind him, his tall body enveloped him, immediately formed an invisible pressure.

Xiang Yan put one hand on Ye Xiaolou's shoulder, lowered his head and approached him, "Are you still angry with Dad?"

"No." Ye Xiaolou lowered his eyes, his long hair was draped softly on his shoulders, his long eyelashes flickered, and he said softly, "Brother's birthday is coming soon?"

"Yes." Xiang Yan looked at his youngest son's side face, and suddenly said with a smile: "Your brother is probably so busy that he even forgot his own birthday."

Ye Xiaolou raised his head abruptly, and met Xiang Yan's eyes straightly, "What about Xiaolou's? Dad, do you still remember my birthday?"

The room suddenly fell silent.

Xiang Yan looked at the delicate and calm face of his young adopted son, his beautiful eyes seemed to be full of great emotion and anticipation, he felt a little palpitating inexplicably seeing this always ruthless underworld godfather.

This is actually a very incredible thing, Xiang Yan even felt that the question Ye Xiaolou asked was very important to them, and this might directly impress the not so real and deep father-son relationship between them. And no matter how you answer, Xiang Yan's words may be the last thing he wants to hear for Ye Xiaolou.

After all, Xiang Yan has been in this position for so long, and he has always been decisive in his actions. This is the first time that he has heard such a fatal question from a child who is less than 14 years old. .

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