As he died, he saw himself lying on the sickbed and his weeping descendants. Then time rewound ceaselessly until he stood once more before that door.,Decades ago, the fire took his wife. It was the most painful thing that had ever happened to him. No matter how hard he worked or how much money he made, he couldn't fill the void in his heart.,Hearing his son's sweet voice, Jiang Zhihao wiped the tears from his face and picked him up, saying, "Dad will work hard to make money. Tomorrow, I'll take you to kindergarten, okay"。
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