Altsin suddenly spoke, his words dropping like a thunderclap. Everyone present froze for a moment, and Chelsea furrowed her brows.

Matthias tilted his head slightly, looking at his ex-brother-in-law.

"I'm twenty years old."

Twenty.

"That young?" Altsin glanced at Chelsea, and when she met his gaze, she inexplicably sensed a hint of mockery—like he was accusing her of robbing the cradle.

Chelsea felt a rush of blood to her head. Just as she was about to snap back at him, Matthias spoke calmly, "It’s not too bad. Maybe it’s just that you look old, Uncle."

"..."

Chelsea nearly burst out laughing. Well, isn’t that the truth? The man was well...