He was so old, but he was crying like a child.
Huo Xiaoran squatted in front of him, snatched his wine bottle, and threw it into the trash can beside him.
"Why don't you have a home?" In Huo Xiaoran's opinion, if he had someone, there was a home. Although Li Zecheng's family was broken, he still had his parents, wife, and children. His home was still there.
Unlike him, her father was missing. Her mother had gone to heaven.
For the first half of his life, he was an orphan without a home.
Li Zecheng cried in pain. "I've cut ties with the Li family. Wei Xin is going to divorce me. I don't have a home anymore. Uncle, how did I end up like this?"
A pair of high heels walked up to him. Li Zecheng looked up shakily. When he saw Qiao An, he lowered his head in shame.
"It's my retribution. I don't deserve sympathy."
