Since it wasn't mealtime, the spicy skewer shop was almost empty. Zhao Meimei and Zhang Zhao ordered a pot of skewers and deliberately chose a private room near the innermost side.
As the bubbles in the pot of skewers rose and fell, a large amount of white steam overflowed. Even sitting across the table, looking at each other's brows and eyes, there was a shadowy visual effect.
Zhang Zhao exhaled, the smile on his face gradually dimming, and said stiffly, "When I was seven, I moved into my current home with my mom. My biological dad died in a car accident shortly after I was born."
Zhang Zhao recounted his experiences in a straightforward manner. Whether speaking about his stepfather or his new, unfamiliar, and luxurious home, his expression was indifferent. However, when he mentioned Zhang Xin, his eyes suddenly lit up with a bright glow.
