「Liu Zijian's home.」
The dilapidated house was filled with the thick scent of traditional medicine, punctuated by the sound of painful coughing.
"Dad... Daddy..."
Liu Xiaolin leaned against the edge of the bed, gazing at his father with an eager yet dazed expression. He was not yet four years old and had been slow to develop, so he could only manage a few simple words.
But for Liu Zijian, that was more than enough.
"Xiao Lin, Daddy's okay."
Lying pale-faced on the bed, Liu Zijian looked at his son's thin little face, his heart aching with guilt.
As a father, he couldn't even protect his own mother and son. How could he call himself a son, let alone a father?
At that thought, a familiar face involuntarily appeared in his mind. No! A friend is a friend, and a brother is a brother! As his brother, I already owe Elder Brother Mu far too much. I absolutely cannot trouble him again.
