Are you really my father's son?
Su Zhinian understood how much distress the answer to this question would bring Song Qingchun because he had experienced the same thing six years ago. When he found out the truth, he had laughed, and he had cried; his world had spun to such a degree that he could not recognize it anymore.
That was truly the lowest point of his life. The man with a serious obsession with cleanliness had kept himself drunk at a bar for seven days and seven nights. When he was out of money, he had been kicked out of the bar and spent the night under the sky over with a group of beggars.
At the time, he had thought about ending his life. He had stood at the edge of a tall building as the wind ravaged his body. Watching the small black dots down on the ground, he had thought about ending his misery with a simple jump.
