"Pfft." Quintessa couldn't help but laugh out loud, hastily setting her spoon down, afraid of choking in a moment.

Tyrone lifted his chin provocatively towards Quintessa, a look of prideful arrogance on his face, as if to say: Yeah, that's how badass I am, I say and I do. Cecilia was dumbfounded, "What did you just say? Have you lost your mind?"

Tyrone scowled, "Lost my mind? Yeah, it's fried, totally fried." Fried by his desire.

Quintessa said to Cecilia, "Auntie, your son's head is fine, it's his virility that's in question. You might want to pick up some aphrodisiacs for him."

Tyrone's face darkened as if a storm cloud had settled over him, "Quintessa, just so you know, I'll remember what you said today."

Quintessa took a sip of her soup, "Tsk, can't I speak the truth? I'm just making factual inferences based on your performance."

Cecilia shouted angrily, "Nonsense, my son is perfectly fine."

Then, she quickly turned to Tyrone, "Right, son?"

her anxiety was palpable, her eyes filled with worry, betraying her

like he was being driven insane by these two women. He just wanted to say: Mom, could you please just

gritted his teeth, "Of course not, why would you believe

away from seeking medical help. If

anxious, indeed, her son hadn't had children

she said, "Son,

shopping every day, get some beauty treatments, play cards with your friends, and enjoy your afternoon tea. Leave the rest to me. If your intelligence

exhausted,

his own mom, was easily fooled time and time again

quick on

"Who are

keep up? If I couldn't keep up, where did you get such a clever brain from? I'm your mother, is it wrong for me to

feeling weary, "Mom, if I really had an issue, how

raised her hand, "That's because I'm healthy and fertile,

to tease Cecilia, "Auntie, how about I give you a grandson first, so that your son won't...

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