Jiang Xinghai looked at Ji Qing, took a deep breath to suppress the doubt and wariness in his heart, and called out softly, "Grandfather."
The address felt foreign, and he was extremely reluctant to use it, but at this moment, it carried an immense weight.
He watched the changes in Ji Qing's expression, trying to find in them a trace of genuine remorse.
When Ji Qing heard Jiang Xinghai's address, the guilt in his eyes deepened. His slightly trembling hand came to rest on the back of Jiang Xinghai's. A bitter smile formed on his wrinkled face. "Xinghai, Grandfather was wrong. I don't dare hope your family can forgive me, I only hope we can avoid any more rifts between us. After all, we are family—we're bound by blood."
As he spoke, Ji Qing glanced at his son, Ji Xiao, who was standing nearby.
"Yes, Father is right," Ji Xiao immediately nodded in agreement.
