Wei Tiansheng's smile was gentle, but it was suffused with cruelty and callousness. He didn't have the slightest sympathy for this old man who had taught his father to read and write, as well as to use breathing techniques.
The father and son were shockingly similar, and their temperaments were both cold.
Uncle Ming's hair was white and his eyes were lightless. His turbid eyes were reminiscent as he watched Wei Tiansheng, recalling Wei Heng when he was young. The latter, back then, was clever and smart. But in the end, he had become so cruel.
Uncle Ming had once considered him as his own son, but now, he was entirely speechless.
In the distance, Chu Feng's eyes were like blades as he stared intently toward the front. He was working together with Xi to search for the best opportunity. He could feel Uncle Ming's anguish and sorrow.