Please vote with your recommendation tickets and monthly tickets.
The moment Ma Tianyang heard that, fury blazed three feet high. He slammed his palm onto the table with a thunderous bang, making the teacups jump.
"You little bastard, who do you think you're calling yourself daddy to?! Two million? Are you tossing scraps to a beggar?!"
Ma Zhibin, however, casually propped his feet on the table and crossed his legs, his expression openly provocative. "Two million isn't good enough for you? You old fossil, have you ever given me even five hundred thousand a year?"
"And have you ever given me any of the clan's 'local specialties,' you old fossil?"
"'Local specialties'?!" Ma Tianyang nearly choked on those words. "What, now you think the clan's resources are beneath you?" he demanded angrily.
Ma Zhibin folded his arms and curled his lip. "You're always hiding everything away, sticking your ass out but refusing to hand over the toilet paper. You might as well keep all that diarrhea in your own belly."
"I earned this money through my own abilities. Want me to cough it up? Not a chance!"
His words were as decisive as a blade striking iron, leaving no room for negotiation.
This thoroughly roguish father and son, Ma Tianyang and Ma Zhibin, traded insults without giving an inch. Spittle flew like a dense shower of rain as they went at each other, looking ready to blow the roof clean off the room.
As for Ma Wencai, he had long since greased his soles and slipped away.
He knew perfectly well that once these two got going, there would be no end to it. Who knew how long they would argue?
Meanwhile, in the respective residences of these Soul Douluos, different scenes were unfolding over these immense fortunes, displaying