"Dad!" Through the round hole in the glass, a familiar voice sounded.
The man in prison garb jerked violently, his head suddenly lifting.
Separated by a pane of glass, the two of them both clearly saw each other's faces.
Ye Zhenguo had truly aged a lot, his hair had turned white rapidly since the day he was imprisoned. Now wearing prison attire, his arms shackled, his feet chained, he was a far cry from the high-end-suited, high-spirited Ye Zhenguo of the past.
Once a revered figure, now reduced to a condemned prisoner, what was once heaven had become hell.
Across from him stood a young man, tall and upright with handsome features. Dressed in black, his very bones exuded an intimidating chill earned from years of disciplined training.
This was Ye Han.
The son of Ye Zhenguo, the Ye Family's only pillar of support!
