Wang Heming gazed at his old father, whose eyes were welling with tears. The old man stared at him eagerly but didn't dare take another step forward.
'So his earlier bold approach was just an act,' Wang Heming thought. 'He really does know he let his own son down!'
Although his father had been outrageously difficult in the past, Wang Heming didn't harbor any particularly deep feelings for him.
In fact, as a child, he had hated his father for being such a disappointment. But it was precisely because he had such a cautionary tale for a father that he had studied so hard, determined to make something of himself.
But with the passage of time, all grievances should be allowed to fade away.
Just then, Wang Chengrong walked over to his father and asked softly, "Dad, is he our biological grandfather?"
"Yes."
"Then you should acknowledge him as your father. I heard from Eldest Brother Gu that he's been a beggar for most of his life. It's so pitiful," Wang Chengrong said earnestly.
