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During the conversation, Xia Siyu had already changed into her high-heeled shoes and pressed the elevator button. Bo Yan looked up impassively: “I’m about to enter the elevator, I’ll be there soon.”

When he hung up the phone, he could still hear his grandfather blowing his beard and staring on the other end.

Bo Yan understood his grandfather. If he put himself in his shoes, considering his youngest son had died and his eldest son, though mediocre, was in his prime. His youngest grandson was clever but had no parents or guidance. His eldest grandson was a bit lacking but always striving to shoulder the Bo Family. From any perspective, he would choose the eldest grandson to inherit Bosch.

His grandfather wasn’t bad to him, but under this mindset, he would pay more attention to Bo Yi and neglect him. If Bo Yi achieved even a little, there would be a crowd around him singing his praises.

And he had nothing.

But it didn’t matter, for he had already found what he wanted. Fame and the company couldn’t hold him back.

The two entered the elevator together, and as they descended, silence reigned. Xia Siyu watched him through the metallic reflection of the elevator doors. He stood erect, his shirt buttoned up without a wrinkle, and his hair combed perfectly, showing no emotion.

But Bo Yan, typically cold, was never this polite when speaking. His courtesy indicated that he actually did care a little.

What he cared about wasn’t that his grandfather had given Bosch to Bo Yi, but the unfairness.

Children reliant on others often have a sensitive disposition. Just like her: though her mother gave her plenty of love and her father also loved her, sometimes she was bothered that their dad spent more time with Xia Ju’an and Xia Sicai on this side.

After exiting the elevator, Little Tang had yet to arrive. Bo Yan stood at the elevator entrance and suddenly asked her, “Would you like to come with me to buy a birthday gift for Grandfather?”

Xia Siyu was startled and took a while before nodding: “Sure.”

Perhaps it was a sense of “commiserating with each other” or a tradition of respecting elders, but she didn’t refuse Bo Yan’s request.

Bo Yan hadn’t called Song Fengzhi to pick him up; he had driven there himself.

He didn’t take his usual Maybach but chose a more low-profile Audi and offered her the passenger seat. This was the first time Xia Siyu was in his car, and she felt slightly uncomfortable.

When they were dating back in university, Xia Siyu wore a disguise and no one knew she was the Xia Family’s heiress. Bo Yan was also low-key, never flaunting his Bo Family lineage. They mostly got around on foot, communicated by yelling, and relied on dogs for security. The occasional outing involved public transport or the subway, and they rarely took cabs.

By the time they reunited later, she had become a widely popular star, while he was just starting out as the young master of the Bo Family. She already had her own drivers and assistants, and he lacked nothing in terms of service. After getting married, they each had their own transportation. Being celebrities, even shopping on a daily basis was inconvenient, let alone traveling together. Even for family dinners, they arrived separately with no connection to each other.

It was only recently, with his shameless persistence and her soft heart, that she had let him draw near.

But going shopping meant hitting the stores. If the two of them appeared in a mall, wouldn’t the place instantly grind to a halt?