Even though today Lu Chen didn't show much resistance towards him, someone as sensitive as him could still easily perceive that his son still harbored some wariness and resistance in his heart.
In fact, in his son's heart, he didn't have as much of an impression as the other man.
His son had been accompanied by another man for nine full years, from birth to growing up.
For the first time, Lu Yanhe felt truly sorrowful.
But whom could he blame?
Could he blame Su Jia?
How could he bear to?
Or should he blame fate, fate's capriciousness, letting them part at a crossroads, henceforth bidding farewell and scattering to the ends of the earth?
No one could be blamed; the only one he should blame was himself.
When Lu Yanhe saw the unfamiliarity in his son's eyes towards him, he didn't even know what to do.
His hand reached out again and again, only to fall back each time, too scared to touch him, afraid this was just a dream.
