Chi Huan finally managed to see Chi An.
In his fifties but not yet sixty, his hair had seemed to turn whiter day by day since his imprisonment, and he had aged considerably, yet his spirit did not seem particularly diminished.
However, today, he looked very tired, and even his back seemed to be hunched over.
Most notably, there was a clear bruise on his forehead.
Chi Huan had been sitting, but she stood up abruptly from her chair, "Dad," she waited until Chi An approached before asking with an urgent tone, "what happened to you?"
Chi An waved his hand dismissively, his expression looking normal, "It's nothing, I fell last night and hit my head on the wall."
Such things were not impossible, but how could Chi Huan believe that now?
Her expression was cold, and with pursed lips, she asked, "Did something happen? Is someone bullying you in prison?"
Chi An sat down and looked up at her, his gaze somewhat reassured.
