"But once the old master made a decision, he'd never regret it, and not even eight horses could pull him back," Uncle Bai's expression gradually grew solemn, his aged, cloudy eyes softly fixed on Song Yan as he said, "He told me, the one thing he regretted most in his life was not keeping you by his side and watching you grow up."
Her nose instantly tingled with soreness, and Song Yan bit her lip, her eyes reddening despite herself.
She lowered her head, picked up her chopsticks again, and stuffed a dumpling into her mouth, full to bursting.
Speaking with her mouth unclear, "Regret isn't necessarily a good thing. If I had grown up by his side, I might have driven him to his death with my behavior."
Uncle Bai smiled, shaking his head helplessly, "Miss, you really are your father's daughter."
Song Yan, in fact, even now, still couldn't accept the reality that her father had passed away.
