"Tingting, this is what your wife promised to give me, how can you have the nerve to come and snatch it away?"
Yan Qilan saw Yan Jingting and immediately shielded the item behind his back.
Yan Jingting didn't move; he tilted his head and caught sight of the ink color peeking out from behind him.
He couldn't take his eyes off it, his Adam's apple bobbed, and he said to Yan Qilan, "Uncle, I can give you anything you want, but not that."
"Tingting, you know I'm sickly."
Yan Qilan coughed several times, holding a handkerchief to his mouth, and shakily lifted it to show the bloodstains on it.
He looked so purely kind and pitiful, "I don't have many days left to live, and my only wish before I die is to have a good look at this Ink Bamboo Jade..."
Yan Jingting had not a shred of pity, "Uncle, your blood bag is showing."
"Oh? Is it?"
Yan Qilan, unfazed, stuffed the blood bag back into his pocket and continued coughing up blood, "Please, just let me have this one."