Uncle Qin didn’t try to defend himself by saying, “Jiaxi didn’t tell me, so I didn’t know.”

He understood all too well—failing to notice his daughter’s distress and neglecting to ask her proactively was a dereliction of his duty as a father. And letting his other son lead the way in mistreating his daughter was a failure in parenting.

When had his son become this kind of person—unable to distinguish right from wrong, treating family and outsiders with such imbalance?

Initially, Uncle Qin had wanted to have a good talk with his daughter, but knowing she wouldn’t answer the phone for a while, he decisively ended his call with Qin Yi and dialed Qin Han instead.

In the lounge, Qin Wenqiang, Uncle Xi, and the rest of the Qin family exchanged glances. They were itching to gossip but didn’t dare interrupt.

Soon, Qin Han answered.

“Dad, I was just about to call you. Let me tell you—” Qin Han began, but his father’s icy voice cut him off.