The man on the wheelchair, devoid of any signs of life, felt a tremble in his eyelashes. His calm expression quickly turned to agony, tears involuntarily slipping from the corners of his eyes.
Song Shijing looked sideways at Ji Zhiyuan, the tears rolling down his cheeks under the sunlight were somewhat glaring.
Song Shijing didn't feel any emotional stir because of his tears. A mocking curve appeared on his lips, "Back when you went to great lengths to marry my mother and used her, then discarded her without a second thought, isn't this what you wanted all along? Why the tears now?"
Upon hearing the words "my mother" from the man beside him, Ji Zhiyuan's heart shook, his eyelids suddenly flew open, and he tried to look at the person next to him, but his body wouldn't respond, his neck failing to lift.
He could only try hard to roll his eyes upward, catching the man's appearance through the corner of his eye.
It wasn't his son.
It wasn't Ji Chengzhou.
