"Uncle." Ye Qiu approached with two large suitcases. Zhang Changfeng didn't give him a single glance, clinging affectionately to his daughter's shoulder as they walked toward the parking lot. Zhang Meng took the chance to look back and gave him a helpless smile.
Ye Qiu wasn't angered, following respectfully behind. After all, this was a father whose daughter had been raised for over twenty years, only to be suddenly whisked away by this brat; any father would be irate.
Moreover, Ye Qiu truly felt guilty towards Zhang Changfeng. If he hadn't been such a scoundrel in his previous life, Zhang Meng wouldn't have suffered from depression and committed suicide, nor would Zhang Changfeng have had a stroke and died with regrets.
