"Actually, I don't want to become the person you envision at all."
Gu Tao's hands were wrapped in bandages. After a long ordeal, he had finally managed to beat his own two hundred percent duplicate, but he was almost unrecognizable. He refused to accept restorative treatment, instead setting his own splint, and then he sat at the lavish table with a wretched look, eating and drinking with the old man.
"Then what do you want?"
"I want to sing," Gu Tao poured himself a large glass of wine. "Be a wandering bard with a guitar on my back, release an album every ten years, and make hundreds of thousands, even millions of fans wait quietly for my new song."
The old man's face turned the color of iron. In his mind, his own descendants could absolutely not turn out so worthless, but this damned brat in front of him was precisely that worthless. There was nothing he could do about it; this was his only flesh and blood after all...
"You really don't seem like one of our family."
