When Gwen finished saying this, Yan Qiu, who had been silent before, suddenly raised his eyes and glanced at her. His eyes were sharp, with a hint of chill. It was just that glance, and he continued what he was holding.
After that, he poured four cups of the brewed tea, gave everyone a cup, removed the old man’s leftover grapes and replaced them with tea, and the old man snorted dissatisfied.
Yan Qiu said lightly: “Grandpa, you can’t eat more grapes. You are not in good shape. You can’t drink too much of this tea. You can only drink two glasses appropriately.”
The old man curled his beard, took a sip from his cup, and said capriciously, “Do I know the size of my own bones?”
“Yes, yes, you all know that Yan Qiu is talking too much.” Yan Qiu rarely showed a smile on his face, unlike the image of an iceberg beauty before.
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