When Song Yonghui decided to return to his country, he didn't know how much mental preparation he had made. He didn't know how much pain he had endured during this period. A once commanding figure, he might now have to spend his lifetime with a crutch.
Even walking independently was a challenge for him, and yet he was so young. For someone who used to walk as swiftly as the wind, handsome and handsome-looking, the prospect of spending the latter half of his life taking slow steps, depending on others for help and care, in his vibrant middle age, was incredibly cruel.
Song Yonghui held Shen Jiadan tightly in his arms, yet at this moment his heart was at peace. Everything from the past was gone. Although he had lost everything, even a leg, having Shen Jiadan by his side and their lovely son was enough. It was all he needed.
