The August weather was oppressively hot.
Yet Su Qingning felt a chill—a bone-piercing cold, even colder than the winter her father had passed away.
She stared at Deng Bingzhong as if he were an alien. Shock, astonishment, and rage crashed over her in waves. She looked at the old man who had lived in her home for over a decade, a man she had long considered family.
In her wildest dreams, Su Qingning never would have imagined he could say such things.
Deng Bingzhong gave the address and hung up without another word. He then turned to glance at Su Qingning, meeting her hateful glare.
Deng Bingzhong chuckled. "What? Surprised?"
Su Qingning didn't speak. Or rather, she couldn't find the words.
Of course, she was surprised. In fact, "surprised" wasn't a strong enough word. It was shock—a shock deeper than anything she had ever felt before.
