Looking at Feng Jinghan's guilty and sorrowful expression, Su Jingyu knew that if she revealed that she was Lin Xiaozhu's daughter, he would be overjoyed.
She feigned hesitance, "You're lying. If you were looking for my mother, how come you've been unable to find her for so long?"
"I'm not lying to you, Jingyu, I really am your father."
In comparison to Feng Jinghan's eagerness to find his daughter, Ouyang Hui was far calmer.
Feng Jinghan was not normally impulsive; it was just because of how important Lin Xiaozhu was to him.
Her death had dealt him a great blow.
Yet, looking at the girl before him, even though she was lightly made-up and dressed modestly,
She exuded a worldly charm; could such a girl really be the daughter of Feng Jinghan and Lin Xiaozhu?
Lin Xiaozhu was an exceptional beauty, none of the portraits he'd painted over the years were as lifelike as her.
She had some doubts in her heart, unwilling to let Feng Jinghan down, secretly worried.
