Enough to make you bubble

　　Xing Ba's words made him depressed.

　　He said that he had picked up Cong Gang, and this could be considered as him picking up a treasure … However, to say sarcastically that he was unable to control Cong Gang, and not think about Cong Gang's thoughts?

　　More or less, there was a sense of loss!

　　"Daddy, what are you talking nonsense with Eighth Brother about? Mommy is calling you back to bed! "

　　The little guy came in yawning. He did not stay at the noisy Hetun, nor did he stay at the pretentious Xing s.h.i.+'er's side. When he went back to his mother's room, he did not see his father Feng Xinglang, so he went all the way here.

　　"Would you waste this rare opportunity to do something as beautiful as monopolizing your mommy?"

　　A wise son cannot be a father. According to common sense, the little guy should have locked the door, then locked his biological father outside.

　　"Daddy, I realized that you really like talking nonsense with Old Eighth! Amongst all of my foster father's foster son, you're the one who likes Number Eight the most, right? "

　　The little guy was just curious: what exactly would his father talk about with eighth brother? Furthermore, during these few days when he came, he would come to Xing Ba's place every single day.

　　"That's a must!"

　　Feng Xinglang admitted it openly, and did not refute or hide anything.

　　Not really. He just felt that Xing Ba was a person who cared about his feelings, and that it suited him. The key was that Xing Ba had saved his life before. Thus, their favorable impressions of him would naturally advance by a bit.

　　Being acknowledged by the Prince Xing, Xing Ba felt somewhat overwhelmed. Because he had never thought of getting too close with Feng Xinglang, nor did he think of intentionally trying to please this crown prince. However, the foster father Hetun would have him walk around his son and grandson frequently.

　　"Dad, why do you like Old Eighth the most? Eighth brother is not as good as Old Tweleve, his skills are not as good as Old Tweleve's! " The little fellow asked in confusion.

　　"Well... All of them love the radish and vegetables! "

　　Feng Xinglang lifted the little thing from the ground and let it sit on his strong legs, "At least, eighth brother knows how to chat!"

　　"I think so too!"

　　The little fellow sighed, "But I still like the Old Tweleve the most!"

　　"How sad does eighth brother sound when you say that!" Xing Ba pretended to sigh.