After Cutting Ties, What Do You Have to Regret?

“Song Xiaobao, you're nothing but a bastard the Song family picked up.”

Song Shoucheng slapped the paternity test down on the coffee table. The words “not the biological father” in the report stabbed at the eyes.

His second older sister, Song Qingyuanwan, flaunted her manicure as she tore his business plan to shreds. “With a penniless nobody like you, you think you're good enough to marry into the Lin family?” Their adopted son, Song Chengyuan, pretended to pull him away, but secretly dug his palm into an old wound: the scar Xiaobao had gotten in his previous life when he took a knife meant for this man.

Song Xiaobao lowered his eyes to the scraps on the floor. As he was wheeled into the operating room in his previous life, he'd heard Song Chengyuan laughing outside and saying, “That idiot really believed I'd save him.” The memory suddenly rang clear.

He bent down and picked up a bloodstained scrap of the business plan. When he looked up, his eyes were like ice. “Fine, we can cut ties. But first, give me back these three things: the case file for the plagiarism scandal I took the fall for on Song Chengyuan's behalf, the two million in gambling debts I covered for Song Qingyuanwan, and...”

He pulled out an encrypted phone. “Song Shoucheng, I have three copies of the lab footage from when you made me a human test subject.”

The living room fell utterly silent.

“Now, who's begging whom?”