After taking a blow from a baton, his shoulder went numb, but Fu Yanlin remained unmoved.
Standing in the rain like that, he let Zhu Qingjia vent her anger, his pale face full of regret and heartache.
At this moment, no matter what Fu Yanlin said, he couldn't change the facts.
Just like in his entire life, he was destined to never escape the identity of Fu Yuhe's son.
He had imagined countless times the scene of Wen Sheng learning the truth, but when the moment quietly arrived, Fu Yanlin still couldn't accept the look of excruciating pain on the face of the woman he loved.
She was that desperate, as if her entire world had collapsed.
Even so, Fu Yanlin had never thought of letting go.
Wen Sheng was his life, his everything, the only light in this filthy, dark world.
"I was wrong, I hurt Asheng. Just come at me, I won't fight back," Fu Yanlin said as he was knocked to the ground, struggling to stand up again, wobbling forward.
