The Disinherited Fake Young Master

That day, the rain was pouring down in Nancheng. Shen Ling stood miserably by the roadside, sheltering from the rain with his torn marriage contract in hand.

Soaked to the skin, Shen Ling's eyes and long lashes were wet with rain. He had nowhere to go, looking forlorn and pitiful.

A pair of shiny black leather shoes appeared abruptly in his field of vision. Shen Ling stared in surprise and looked up, only to see a face he never expected.

Huo Shishen.

Why was it him?

Shen Ling's fingers trembled. He felt dazed.

After all these years apart, Shen Ling had never thought he would see Huo Shishen again. The once-impoverished boy had completely changed, now dressed in a tailored suit with an assistant eagerly holding an umbrella behind him. He seemed to have made a success of himself, with none of the poverty or loneliness of the past remaining.

He also seemed much colder than before, almost like a different person from the one who used to hold Shen Ling gently and call him