Charlotte silently shifted her gaze away, unwilling to witness such a chaotic scene.
It felt just like when she and Justin Battleson got back together and were caught by Joshua Thompson on the spot.
"Where did you say you were going?"
At this mont, Mr. Thompson was sitting upright on the sofa, a stark contrast to the gentle expression he had when facing Charlotte.
Throughout his life, Jordan Thompson had caused quite a few troubles and had been punished nurous tis, but he never cared who the other party was.
But Mr. Thompson was different.
This was the person whom Jordan both feared and respected in his heart.
"I...I...I said I was going to the restroom..." Jordan scratched his hair awkwardly, trying to quickly find an excuse to brush this issue aside.
Obviously, Jordan was wishful thinking.
He had never won against Mr. Thompson.
However, in recent years, Mr. Thompson had been rather lenient in supervising Jordan, sowhat turning a blind eye to so matters.
But when it ca to Jordan’s desire to pursue music, Mr. Thompson had never given his approval.
Yet, Jordan perfectly inherited Mr. Thompson’s stubborn temperant, combined with the rebellious mindset of the youth.
The more he was told not to do sothing, the more Jordan wanted to do it, and even found it extrely exciting.
Fortunately, he did a good job keeping it a secret, and with Charlotte helping him on the side, he had never been caught by Mr. Thompson.
But now, he had accidentally hit the bullseye himself.
"Stop right there!"
Seeing Jordan trying to sneak away, Mr. Thompson imdiately chided him and stopped him in his tracks.
Almost instinctively, Jordan straightened his back and smiled tightly at Mr. Thompson.
"Grandpa, when did you co to Druarus?"
Jordan purposely diverged from the topic Mr. Thompson had asked about while quietly signaling Charlotte with his eyes, hoping his beloved sister could save his life.
The next second, a figure directly blocked Charlotte firmly.
It wasn’t just about not seeing his signals; he might not even be able to see her.
Jordan looked up, eting Jas Thompson’s gaze.
Jordan’s smile suddenly wasn’t a smile anymore.
This old fox must have done it intentionally.
"What did you just say you participated in?" Mr. Thompson, although quite aged, seed to still have sharp hearing.
"What participation? Grandpa, you must have heard wrong. So, recently I saw a good variety show, which I thought of recomnding to Sister Charlotte."
Jordan chuckled, but his explanation obviously sounded weak.
Because he was holding a guitar case in his hands.
Jordan just wanted to look up at the sky at a 45-degree angle and indulge in a mont of sorrowful, youthful literary pain.
If he now said that he just saw this guitar by the roadside and thought it looked good and wanted to buy it on a whim, would anyone believe him?
"Jordan Thompson! You little rascal!"
Mr. Thompson, who had been sitting quietly on the sofa, suddenly stood up and wielded his walking stick at Jordan.
"I told you things and you never rember them; you even told you ca to Druarus to start a business, so where did you get to with that business?"
"Grandpa! I know my mistake, I realize my mistake, please be magnanimous and let go this once."
Jordan imdiately covered his head, panicking and scrambling away.
No joke, if he really got hit by Mr. Thompson’s stick with his slight build.
Jordan didn’t even dare to think about it.
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