A drop of tear fell from Xia Qingqian's right eye, bean-sized, as she smiled pale, "Auntie, if I didn't find out about this, were you really planning to keep it from me forever?" Her tone carried a hint of blame.
"Qing Qian, Zhenyu knew you came to see him. This time he will truly rest in peace and be relieved. Don't blame your uncle and aunt for hiding it from you for so long. We emigrated suddenly so you wouldn't know about Zhenyu's matter."
The voice at the beginning was Zhenyu's father's, deep and resonant.
Xia Qingqian looked over, "Uncle, have you been well these years?" Her voice was faint, her brow twitching; how could they be well when they had been suffering the pain of losing a son all these years?
After paying respects to Qiao Zhenyu, Xia Qingqian sent Ye Feng and the accompanying bodyguards away.
