Kang Chen was filled with regret, self-reproach, and deep worry and concern.
He had sworn to Ming Mei the last time she was kidnapped that he would always protect her and never let her get hurt again.
But those conspiracies, those calculated plots, were always unpredictable.
He thought he had been very careful, thought his defenses were strong enough, but they still weren't enough.
Ming Mei's hand was slightly cold, still not warmed up lying in bed. Holding her thin, frail hand, Kang Chen dared not squeeze it.
The old geezer was initially full of anger, but seeing Kang Chen like this, no matter how much anger he had, he couldn't express it.
The most heartbroken person about Ming Mei's incident was his son.
Just look at him, he didn't even bring a hat, his hair was disheveled, and there was a layer of mist on his hair and body. One look and it was obvious he had run all the way here. God knows how anxious he must be.
