Lin Dapao's eyes were filled with confusion.
He had walked through most of his life, once clashing with countless experts, danced a beautiful dance on the edge of death, seen numerous people's expressions of joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness, and many forms of deep-seated hatred.
But only today, looking into Lin Hai's eyes, a heart near ninety-eight trembled slightly.
Those eyes contained profound reminiscence, pain, vexation, regret, fury, intent to kill, hatred, and a deeply complex mix of confusion forcibly kneaded together.
Lin Dapao didn't know what his grandson had gone through, but he was sure it must have been engraved deeply into his bones.
"If you don't want to talk about it, just forget it." He spoke in due time, knowing that if his grandson didn't want to do or say something, he would never force him, nor let others push him, because descendants are meant to be cherished.
