Han Zhan knew he was in the wrong, so he didn't argue.
He poured himself a glass of boiled water, held it up, raised the glass to Han Ao Yu and apologized, saying: "I am unfilial. I only care about making money and neglect my family. I will punish myself with a glass of boiled water." After that, Han Zhan drank the glass of boiled water.
Han Aoyu turned his head proudly and said proudly: "You can ask me to forgive you..." Rubbing his hands, Han Aoyu was eager to try, he said: "Give me a bite!"
Han Zhan put down the teacup and said, "Then you'd better not forgive me."
Han Ao Yu snorted and muttered a few words to criticize Han Zhan.
Song Ci watched the interaction between Han Zhan and Han Aoyu with a faint smile on her face, but she knew in her heart why she had done what she did tonight. After surviving the disaster and facing the threat of death, he thought of his home. Perhaps because of the guilt and reluctance in his heart, he cooked a table full of dishes, wanting to accompany her and the old man.
Song Ci poured a cup of chicken soup into the cup and said to Han Zhan, "Come on, Brother Han, let's clink glasses."
"good."
Seeing that they were all toasting, Zhong Buhui poured herself a glass of water and clinked glasses with Han Zhan.
After dinner, Han Zhan and Han Aoyu lay side by side on the lounge chairs in the garden. There were still mosquitoes in this season, so Han Aoyu and Han Zhan each lit a mosquito repellent lamp, but Han Zhan was naturally attracted to mosquitoes, so he still got bitten a few times.
He sat up, swatting mosquitoes and scratching his itch.
Han Aoyu suddenly said: "I heard that you were attacked today."
Han Zhan pressed the mosquito bite on his arm with his hard nails, and said without raising his head, "Grandpa knows?" He still thought he could hide it from Han Aoyu.
Han Ao Yu snorted coldly, "It would be strange if I didn't know." If Han Ao Yu wanted to know something, it would be easy as pie.
Han Zhan hummed, then said, "It's Arang."
"Arang?" Han Aoyu felt unfamiliar when he heard this name for the first time, so he asked Han Zhan: "Who is Arang?" From what Han Zhan said, it seemed that the person who wanted to kill him was an acquaintance.
Han Zhan's expression was cold. He said, "Edward's other child, the one who always followed me around when he was little, was very handsome, but very timid. Grandpa, do you still remember him?"
Han Aoyu thought for a moment before asking, "Is he the little boy who stood far away and secretly observed me back then?"
"Um."
Han Aoyu could no longer remember what the child looked like, nor was he clear about the relationship between him and Han Zhan, so he asked him, "Were you not in harmony when you were little?"
"We had a very good relationship back then. We agreed that when we came of age and became strong enough, we would escape from that cage. But I was lucky to have met you, Grandpa. Valan had no one to lean on, no one cared about him, no one to lead him out of his misery, and that's how he ended up like this."
"Hmm." Han Aoyu didn't discuss the matter any further. He closed his eyes and hummed a Peking opera. Old man Han was tone-deaf, and the classic piece was completely transformed when he sang it. Han Zhan couldn't tell what he was singing.
Han Zhan quickly slipped away.
The weather was starting to get cooler in the mornings and evenings, and many of Song Ci's clothes were still in the duplex. The next day, before Han Zhan got off work, Song Ci called him and asked him to go back and bring her some flat shoes and some early autumn clothes.
Han Zhan asked Long Yu to drive the car into the residential complex. He pushed the door open, entered the house, and went straight upstairs. Han Zhan found a suitcase, put away the beautiful shoes that Song Ci had specifically requested, and took out five or six sets of autumn clothes, folded them, and put them in the suitcase.
He carried his suitcase and headed towards the door.
Han Zhan had just pressed the door handle when he heard a slight movement behind him. He turned quickly, raised his left foot, and kicked it hard behind him!
That kick landed directly on a solid chest.
"Hmph!" A muffled groan followed.
Han Zhan looked carefully and saw a gray shadow quickly taking two steps back, its calf hitting the bedpost before it stabilized itself.
The man raised his hand and touched the corner of his mouth, then stood up.
He suddenly looked up, his gray-blue eyes meeting Han Zhan's. Their eyes were surprisingly similar. The man had blond hair and blue eyes, and a small black mole between his lip and chin, making him look strangely beautiful.
The man grinned at Han Zhan and said in a strange tone: "I thought you became a sick man after retiring from the army, but I didn't expect that you are so resilient."
Han Zhan stared at the young man without saying a word.
It had been over twenty years since Han Zhan saw Arang again. The skinny little boy in his memory had truly grown up, now tall and handsome, with almost no trace of the familiar feeling from his childhood left in him.
Only the small black mole has remained the same as before.
Han Zhan released the suitcase and frowned as he said, "Arang, long time no see."
Hearing the long-lost voice of Arang, Arang was stunned for a moment, and then a look of irritation and shame appeared on his face. "I'm not here to reminisce with you!" Arang raised his fist again and ran towards Han Zhan at the speed of light.
Coming with great force!
Valan's fighting style is very chaotic. He has not learned any orthodox kung fu. His fighting style is all skills learned in actual combat. Every move and every form is a move to take someone's life!
Arang punched Han Zhan in the heart.
When that punch hit Han Zhan, his heart wouldn't break, but it would at least tremble a few times.
Han Zhan placed his palm against his chest, struggling to take the punch, his face slightly changed. With his other hand, he tightly grasped Arjan's arm and, using his head as a weapon, rammed it hard into Arjan's head.
Valang wanted to let go of Han Zhan, but Han Zhan's hands were like iron pliers, grabbing Valang and not letting go.
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