On August 10th, Li Qiao gave birth prematurely.
In the luxurious first-class cabin flying to the South Sea, He Chen sat lazily, his head sunk into the headrest in a light sleep.
The man's exceptionally handsome face and nearly six-foot-three stature have always been a walking magnet; even with his eyes closed, he's enough to captivate.
A few young flight attendants clustered together in the working cabin, whispering about the excessively handsome man in first class.
He Chen's sleep was restless, his thick brows slightly furrowed, breathing alternating between fast and slow.
"He Chen, you're a nameless, status-less bastard, doomed to live off leftovers your whole life?"
"He Chen, you're good for nothing, the He Family will never acknowledge you."
"Bastard, get lost, the He Family is beyond your reach..."
Too many memories buried deep within his psyche clung to He Chen like a nightmare. After an unknown amount of time, the cabin speaker chimed:
