"How can they not be treated the same?" Pei Yicheng sneered, "I can't marry the person I like, but you can? Pei Guozhong, do you still remember what my mother looked like when you were holding Wan Hongxing? Do you even remember how my mother died?"
Pei Yicheng took a step forward with his tall frame, his dark eyes intensely watching him as he pressed forcefully, "You were always too busy to be at home, and when my mom went to bring you food, a big truck..."
"Stop talking!"
Pei Guozhong shouted loudly, his face twisting and turning, Pei Yicheng's gaze seemed to solidify into knives stabbing straight into his heart.
The death of Du Ya was his deepest guilt and also the matter he least wanted... to mention.
