In the study room, Old Mr. Green sat by the table, slowly sipping a cup of tea.
Previously, Tessa Caldwell only thought of him as an Old Rascal, but now she felt he was like a dignified elder, exuding authority without anger.
He glanced at Tessa sitting on the side seat and deliberately put down the teacup heavily.
It was as if he was silently protesting his displeasure.
At this moment, Tessa once again felt he was just an Old Rascal.
She couldn't help but mutter, "Grandpa, your health isn't too good. Could you stop getting all worked up like a jumping grasshopper? It's really bad for your health."
Grandpa's eyes glared, and he raised his cane as if to hit Tessa: "You brat, do you know how to talk…"
Tessa shrieked, "Ah—"
Instinctively, she raised her hands, wanting to cover her head.
But in reality, Old Mr. Green wasn't going to hit her, just scaring her a little.
She also felt that Grandpa wouldn't really hit her; otherwise, she'd have bolted away like a rabbit long ago.
