"Why are you afraid of a Song family?"

"Grandma, do you think I will agree?"

Hawthorne grinned coldly, and the old lady had long anticipated his reaction.

Take out a bunch of photos from his arms and put them in front of Huo Miao himself.

The familiar eyebrows, the familiar focused eyes, like the delicate sculptured features, like the impression in the mind.

His mother, Homer.

"Think at the beginning, your mother was sitting in this room, day and night for Hodgson's hard work, today's Hodgson, is her sweat and blood, do you want to let your mother disappointed, not happy under Jiuquan?"

Homer is the old lady's killer.

Silence,...