"Shui han, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I never thought of leaving you behind." Ling Chuxi looked at the man in front of her. Although he still looked young, the vicissitudes of life in his eyes spoke of the eternity of time. Ling Chuxi's heart ached so much that it could not be any worse. The child who had trusted and relied on her wholeheartedly back then had gone through countless hardships to reach this point.
"Master ..." A faint smile appeared on Shui Han's face. He pulled Ling Chuxi to the only table in the room and sat down. Then, he poured a cup of hot tea for Ling Chuxi. Yes, it was hot tea. As the patriarch, although no one lived in this house when he was in seclusion, there was always someone cleaning it. There was always hot tea in his teapot.