"Jing'er, can you stay home this time?"
In front of him.
A familiar middle-aged woman is desperately holding the hem of Zhang Jing's clothes, her eyes filled with anticipation.
Before Zhang Jing could respond.
A man with a haggard face steps out quietly from the room, his eyes flashing a hint of expectation not easily detected.
The next moment.
His face darkens.
His expectation is hidden from his eyes.
"Jing'er is a person destined for great things! We, as parents, must not drag him down."
As he was speaking.
The man's face suddenly turns red.
Immediately afterward, a large amount of dark red blood spews out from his mouth.
The middle-aged woman who had just been clutching Zhang Jing's clothes turns pale, she quickly runs to the man's side and calls out in a sobbing voice:
"Jing'er, your father is dying. If you leave now, I'm afraid...I'm afraid you'll never see him again."
"It's...it's nothing."
