In my previous life, I broke up the conspiracy between my wife and my lover on my wedding anniversary, and died "accidentally" that night.
Reborn on the night of the proposal, she coquettishly handed over a box of imported condoms: "Husband, now you have to put your career first."
I took them with a smile and cut each one open that night. The next day, I quietly went for a sterilization.
Three years later, she hugged her son, who looked exactly like her lover, and cried, begging me to make a will: "This is your only flesh and blood!"
I touched the child's face and nodded gently: "Okay."
He turned around and dialed the bank number - it was time to close the network.
After all, how could a man who had been sterilized for five years have a "biological son"?
