Reborn a day later, I emptied my enemy's possessions beforehand.

Zhou Dongsheng raised his head briefly, but quickly lowered it again, saying, "It's just 300,000, is it really that big of a deal?"

Zhou Haibing was furious. He picked up Zhou Dongsheng's computer tower and carried it away.

At first, Zhou Dongsheng didn't react. But when Zhou Haibing moved the computer out of the room, the fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy suddenly jumped up from his chair like a madman, rushed out of the room, and into the kitchen.

Zhou Haibing heard a loud crash from the kitchen and before he could react, he saw Zhou Dongsheng rush out of the kitchen, holding a kitchen knife.

The cleaver gleamed coldly under the light. Zhou Dongsheng's eyes were bloodshot, and his face was contorted like a madman's. He roared at Zhou Haibing:

"Give me back my computer! Or I'll kill you!"

Zhou Haibing stood in the corridor, holding the computer, watching his son rush towards him with a kitchen knife in his hand. He felt as if he had been doused with a bucket of ice water, chilled to the bone.

He wasn't afraid; he just couldn't believe it.

The son he raised for over a decade, the son to whom he poured all his heart and soul, held up a kitchen knife and threatened to kill him over a game.

He didn't move; he just stood there, watching Zhou Dongsheng rush towards him.

Zhou Dongsheng's hand holding the cleaver was trembling, and his expression looked like he wanted to devour someone, but he didn't bring down the last cleaver.

He threw the kitchen knife to the ground with a clatter, then squatted down, buried his head in his hands, and began to cry.

Zhou Haibing later returned the computer to him.

He thought the child was still young and didn't understand, and would be fine when he grew up.

Now he realizes that some things won't get better as you grow up.

On another occasion, Zhou Dongsheng got into an argument with a classmate over a game and beat him so badly in the school toilet that his face was covered in blood and his nose was broken.

The other parent called the police, and Zhou Dongsheng was taken to the police station.

When Zhou Haibing received the call from the police, he was in another city discussing an important cooperation. Without saying a word, he canceled all his plans for the day and took the earliest flight back.

When he arrived at the police station, Zhou Dongsheng was sitting on a bench outside the interrogation room, with his legs crossed and his head down, playing on his phone.

Zhou Haibing went over to ask him what happened, but Zhou Dongsheng didn't even look up. He said that the idiot had insulted him in the game, and he had taught the idiot a lesson.

Zhou Haibing said that you can be detained for hitting someone at school, do you know that?

Zhou Dongsheng said, "Then let's just detain him. What's the big deal?"

Suppressing his anger, Zhou Haibing first went to see the child who had been beaten and his parents.

The child's mother was crying uncontrollably, while the father's face was ashen, and he said he would definitely make sure Zhou Dongsheng went to jail.

Zhou Haibing bent over and apologized again and again, saying that he was sorry and that he had not educated his child well. He was willing to compensate for all losses, including medical expenses, nutritional expenses, and compensation for mental distress. He said he would pay whatever amount was offered.

He lost 100,000 yuan.

With 100,000 yuan, plus the cost of round-trip airfare, and after a whole day of arguing with the other party's parents, he finally got them to sign a letter of understanding and was able to get Zhou Dongsheng out of the police station.

When he left the police station, he drove Zhou Dongsheng home.

He kept talking to Zhou Dongsheng along the way. He told Zhou Dongsheng that hitting people was wrong, that he should learn to control his emotions, and that his father worked hard to earn money outside, hoping that he could be more sensible.

Zhou Dongsheng leaned against the passenger seat, tilting his head to look out the window, without saying a word.

After Zhou Haibing finished speaking, the carriage was quiet for a few seconds before Zhou Dongsheng slowly turned his head to look at Zhou Haibing, a smile on his lips that Zhou Haibing would never forget.

That smile contained contempt, mockery, and a son's most naked disdain for his father.

"Are you finished?" Zhou Dongsheng's voice was soft, but every word pierced Zhou Haibing's ears like needles.

"What else can you do besides lose money? Do you know why those people beat me up? Because they called me a good-for-nothing who relies on his father."

Do you know why they call me a good-for-nothing who relies on his father? Because I really do have a useless father.

Zhou Haibing's hand trembled slightly on the steering wheel.

"You're so tough, why don't you go beat those guys up? Go avenge me!" Zhou Dongsheng's tone was as if he were mocking a coward.

"All you do is pay money, apologize, and bow and scrape to people saying sorry. You deserve to be bullied."

Zhou Haibing remained silent.

At that time, he felt that Zhou Dongsheng made sense, that he had indeed failed in his responsibilities as a father, and that he was too cowardly to even stand up for his son when he was bullied.

Now he realizes that he wasn't cowardly; he had been manipulated by this bastard for over twenty years.

Even more hateful things were yet to come.

One of the chat logs Zhou Haibing saw on Zhao Shuzhen's phone still makes his chest feel tight when he thinks about it.

When Zhao Shuzhen was chatting with that "flower," she mentioned something—

Zhou Dongsheng had long known that he was not Zhou Haibing's biological son.

"That little brat is quite shrewd," Zhao Shuzhen wrote in her original words.

"He knew all along that Lao Wang was his biological father, but he didn't say anything. He pretended not to know because he wanted to spend Lao Zhou's money."

That idiot Old Zhou still calls him his precious son every day, so affectionately.

"I heard Old Zhou has a terminal illness?" Hua Hua asked.

"That's right, pancreatic cancer, late stage, he's dying."

Old Wang told me that the little brat was overjoyed when he found out about this. He told his mother, "Great! The old woman is finally going to die. After she dies, she won't have to pretend anymore, and she can change her surname back to Wang."

Zhou Haibing closed his eyes, and the steering wheel creaked in his hands.

I hope he dies soon.

He raised his son for over twenty years, the son to whom he poured all his heart and soul, and he knew he wasn't his biological son.

He knew Zhou Haibing had a terminal illness. He wasn't sad, worried, or overjoyed. Instead, he was so happy that he said, "Great! The old man is finally going to die!"

Great.

The old man is finally going to die.

Zhou Haibing opened his eyes, which were devoid of any emotion, like two stagnant pools of water.

He drove into the residential area where Zhou Dongsheng lived, found a parking space, turned off the engine, and got out of the car.

He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the 19th floor.

As the elevator ascended, Zhou Haibing looked at his reflection in the elevator door. His face was pale, thin, and tired, with deep-set eyes and prominent cheekbones.

This is the face of someone with late-stage pancreatic cancer, the face of someone who is about to die.

Zhou Dongsheng was looking forward to the day when this face would close its eyes completely.

The elevator reached the 19th floor and the doors opened.

Zhou Haibing walked out and reached the door of room 1902.

The security door was tightly closed, and the sound effects of the game could be faintly heard inside—gunshots, explosions, shouts—exactly the same as what I heard on the phone.

He rang the doorbell.

Ding dong.

No response.