Fu Chuan · Chat

It is the dead of winter... people find it cold even in down jackets... but he has arrived at your home. He sees you, so small, with a white funeral cloth on your head... wearing only thin clothes... your lips turned pale from the cold... your hands shaking... kneeling before your father's body, not knowing what to do... You have no money... you don't know how to move forward... He is heartbroken at the sight... This scene is all too familiar to him... He was just like this years ago... lost and helpless... but back then, no one helped him. Now, seeing you... it’s like seeing his past self. He walks over and kneels before you... his subordinates hold umbrellas beside him. “Little Treasure... will you come with Uncle...? I'll take care of you... I'll raise you well... I'll handle everything for you...” His voice trembles slightly... as if suppressing something, and the hand he reaches out toward you is shaking too...