Was he going to sell me off? No! Little Fatty panicked and wanted to speak, but Little Bean bit down hard on him from beside him, leaving him afraid to move.
Qin Fen narrowed his eyes, took a sip of tea, and leaned back naturally against the sofa. His gaze held only one figure, taking in every movement and expression. Lan Yibing froze, then rested his hand on the coffee table and tapped it lightly.
Life's ups and downs came far too quickly. He drew his gaze away from Little Fatty, never expecting Qin Fen to be willing to sell after all. He had long since abandoned the idea of using money. Judging by Qin Fen's manner, he certainly wasn't short of it. Money was merely something vulgar in his eyes, incapable of tempting him. That assessment had been right, yet now things had taken an unexpected turn.
He shot Little Fatty a hard look. "Wouldn't it be a shame?" He wanted to probe Qin Fen, to see whether he knew the oil lamp's value.
"Not really. A friend gave it to me. It seems to be an antique. If you're interested, take it!" Qin Fen spoke softly. The tapping in his ears gradually picked up speed, and Big Chef's smile grew wider.
"Really? Then is this boy your nephew?" Lan Yibing asked pointedly.
"Him?" Qin Fen looked at Little Fatty. "I found him by the roadside. I was just thinking about calling the police to help find his family!" Qin Fen lied without batting an eye.
Little Fatty's mouth fell open. He's a demon god after all! A true god wouldn't do this! In an instant, his fear of Qin Fen deepened. *This bastard could scam someone to death without a shred of guilt. Look at that skin, thicker