Zong Guang left home when he was still a child.
Thirteen years old, just entering the stage of a changing voice.
After more than a decade, Zong Guang's voice had not only become magnetic, but he had also grown into a tall man of one meter eighty-eight.
Even Zong Ji took several seconds to realize that this was his own son.
Alive, right before his eyes.
Once he came to terms with it, Zong Ji took another few seconds before he finally said just three words, "Back already?"
Had those three words not trembled slightly, it would have seemed as casual as a father and son who had seen each other just yesterday.
"I'm back." Zong Guang was prepared for this moment, and as a well-trained pilot, his voice was indeed very calm.
Lady Meng Lan, who hadn't cooked much in ten years, said, "What would you like to eat, Aguang? Do you still have the same tastes as before?"
