It was the dead of night, the hour when a person could fall asleep the moment their head hit the pillow. A chorus of snores, rising and falling, reached his ears.
To say the snores were like thunder would be an overstatement. But as fate would have it, his mind was in turmoil, and every little sound was infinitely amplified.
Xu Qiguang gently turned over, laced his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling in the darkness. 'How did things turn out like this? My biological father just suddenly appeared.'
Ever since that year when he heard his comatose mother mutter those few words, once he pieced them together, he was certain. There was no longer any doubt that he was not a true son of the Xu family.
It was after that very night that he knew in his heart he wasn't a son of the Xu family. In his despair, he had decisively taken on the burden of her medical expenses by himself, faced reality, and given up on the long-held dream he had studied so hard for.
