Qi Taiguo cried silently, tears falling all over Cheng Su's neck; a man doesn't easily shed tears, only when he's heartbroken.
He was heartbroken, more filled with remorse, if it weren't for him, Zheng Guixiang might not have died.
Cheng Su held him, patting him gently to comfort him.
"I personally brought back the platoon leader's ashes to the Zheng family for installation. You know, when Little Yu received the urn calmly with her huge pregnant belly, I wished it were me who died." Qi Taiguo thought of that scene and felt as if his heart were being cut.
Cheng Su's hand trembled, but he didn't speak. Fortunately, he was fine.
"The platoon leader was the pillar of the Zheng family; when he had passed, the eldest son was only three years old and there was a posthumous child, a girl." Qi Taiguo said, "A house full of orphans and widowed mothers, what do you say, what can be done?"
"So how old are they now?"
