"Why are you knitting a scarf again? Is it for Wang Shangyan?"
Li Zhiyan looked at Yin Xueyang, who had just gotten up and immediately started acting like an overturned vinegar bottle, and said helplessly, "Yes, Aunt Yin, you've forgotten, I never agreed to your terms. The first scarf is for you, proving that you're the most important in my heart."
"You can't stop me from knitting scarves, can you?"
Yin Xueyang huffed, stood up, and, thinking about what she did yesterday, her heart still felt as if in a dream. Her own son actually wanted to hit her.
In that case, it was completely possible to sever ties with this son.
Though it was hard to let go of the relationship built over so many years, Yin Xueyang also knew that once the bond between mother and son was broken, familial ties meant nothing.
"I'm too lazy to bother with you."
"I've already paid you back for yesterday's incident. We're even now, so don't bother me anymore."