Once he traveled through time and came to the Qin Dynasty, he was abandoned miserably. The baby's body was left to die in the snow. However, the appearance of that man aroused his desire to survive. If that's the case, then, Dad, I won't let you go.
"It's been hard for me these past few days, having to deal with such a trouble." Zhang Liang smiled, with a hint of distress between his brows: "How did you raise a daughter like that? She's so smart and it's a headache."
The slender fingers paused for a moment, and then the cup in his hand shattered. The flying fragments cut his fingers and spilled Yin Hong's blood. The man in the cloak took out the silk cloth and wiped it casually before throwing it away: "Remember, I may be her father, but she has never been my daughter."
This is a pampering story about a pseudo-father and daughter. There is no favorite, only more favor.