The man looked at Fu Ting's lifelike face in the painting and swallowed hard. His voice was hoarse." You're very, very good. You deserve the best. Don't come to my side when you're choosing your mother in your next life.""
He really couldn't bear to part with her.
She was the light he had waited for so long, and he had yet to celebrate her birthday with her.
He had yet to bring her on a sightseeing trip, buy her delicious food, and give her his whole world like he had imagined when he was young.
His breathing slowed down bit by bit. At this moment, even time seemed to have become longer.
Fu Yu 'an picked up a dagger from the ground. The silver blade glinted under the moonlight. It was so cold that one's bones were numb.
He slowly walked to the window, crossed his long legs, and sat in the air outside.
The man raised his chin slightly. The silver-white light on his face made him look as handsome as a fog.
