"Xia Er, we have to mourn for the holidays!" After listening to Chen Xia's words, most people dared not speak out, but a dozen figures still came out of it, one of the three-pointed old man first consoled.

"Uncle three, my son is not dead yet. Are you saying it's too early to celebrate mourning now?" Next to Chen Xia, a beautiful woman complained.

Jinxiu, Chen Jiu's mother, who is graceful and graceful, appears very weak, as if the wind would fall down as soon as it blows.

"Jinxiu, I opposed your marriage that year. If Xia'er hadn't insisted on it, how could you have married our Chen family? Sure...