"What?"
"Burned to death..." Lu Yu finally looked up, his eyes meeting Tang Fei's as he said hoarsely, "It was my son."
The secret he had buried in his heart for many years, the painful torment he had struggled with day after day, year after year, and the deep-seated hatred that wouldn't dissolve, all found a confidant to confide in, an outlet to vent.
By the time he finished his sentence, his eyes were red with blood and tears streamed down the wrinkles that creased his face.
One drop, and another.
Oh, the pain!
It pierced through his heart!
His heart felt as if it were being stabbed repeatedly by a knife, relentlessly.
Upon hearing the old man's response, Tang Fei's face turned deathly pale, his expression one of horror. A buzzing filled his ears and his mind thundered incessantly.
It was as if countless warplanes were roaring inside his head, screaming, and firing angry cannonballs that whipped his mind into wave after wave of tumultuous storm.
