Qin Jingzhi walked up to the person, looking at their grizzled hair and aged face.
"Dad, I was wrong," his voice was hoarse as he spoke.
Father Qin raised his head to look at his son, "What happened, what's going on?"
Qin Jingzhi choked up but didn't know how to answer his father's question.
The person he had always hated turned out to be his benefactor he couldn't forget—could there be greater irony than this?
Moreover, he had repaid kindness with ingratitude.
"Dad, what should I do if I've hurt someone who once helped me?" he murmured.
"Then make amends, until you feel you've made enough," Father Qin said.
Qin Jingzhi pursed his thin lips. Make amends... could he still make amends? Ren Chuqing was now in the late stages of leukemia, how was he supposed to make things right? Find the best doctors? Give her the best treatment?
But how much longer could this really extend her life?
Just thinking about that woman dying made him feel suffocated.
