Do I Still Have Another Grandson?

Amid the sea of clouds.

Xiao Chen's face was wreathed in mist, somewhat illusory. Hearing Meng Qiuhan's words, he remained utterly unmoved and said calmly, "I don't have a grandfather."

In his memories, Wen Haishan existed only as a few exceedingly vague impressions, appearing in conversations between Wen Wanrong and Xiao Zhentian—and only a handful of times.

Now that he had even severed ties with Wen Wanrong, what the hell did Wen Haishan have to do with him?

"You're not the Zhenbei King's son?" Meng Qiuhan asked in surprise.

"I used to be. Not anymore," Xiao Chen said blandly.

Meng Qiuhan froze. She suddenly realized that the white-robed youth before her seemed to have had an unusual past as well—a memory just like hers, one that was far from beautiful.

She fell silent for several breaths before saying, "No matter what rift lies between you and your parents, you can still be with your grandfather..."

Xiao Chen interrupted her. "Because he's some great figure standing above the clouds? Because his name resounds throughout the Outer Realm and he might offer me protection? I don't need it!"

He knew what Meng Qiuhan meant, but he had already been utterly disappointed in Zhenbei King Manor.

That utterly rotten family was something he did not want to touch in the slightest.

Meng Qiuhan's beautiful eyes flickered, and she said no more.

It seemed Zhenbei King Manor had truly wounded Xiao Chen deeply, to the point that even the slightest mention of it filled him with resistance.

All of a sudden, she felt a sense of shared misery with Xiao Chen. She had once had a happy, complete family—parents and relatives who loved her—only for it to be cruelly destroyed.

Xiao Chen's relatives, meanwhile, were all still alive, yet they were strangers to him.