Xiang Mingli's gaze, however, fell on the doorway. "I... was wrong... I was wrong... Brother..."
Xiang Minghou stood motionless. The moonlight illuminated his resolute face, which was completely drained of color.
"COUGH COUGH, Bro... ther, I'm begging you... please take care of the children... They're still so young... I'm begging you..." Xiang Mingli reached out a trembling hand toward him.
Xiang Minghou took a deep breath. Without a word, he turned, a motion that seemed to drain all his strength. He walked out of the room step by step, never looking back, no matter how the voice behind him called out.
Once he rounded the corner of the building, he could no longer stay on his feet and spat out a mouthful of fresh blood.
"Dad—"
Before he lost consciousness, he vaguely saw a small figure running toward him.
The next day, it was nearly noon, and Xiang Minghou was still unconscious, having collapsed from the overwhelming shock.
