Hung up the phone, pulled out a cigarette, and just as he was striking a match, the phone rang again.
"F**k!"
Tan Wenbin stuffed the cigarette back and picked up the phone.
On the other end, his father's gentle and friendly voice came through: "Zhuiyuan, is something the matter? Don't worry, just tell uncle soon, and I'll help you solve it."
"Dad."
"Scum."
Tan Wenbin: "..."
Tan Wenbin felt that what always made maintaining a father-son relationship difficult was precisely this blood connection.
If it wasn't for the young photos of his dad, which almost looked as if carved out of the same mold as his,
he would doubt whether he was adopted or whether his parents had enacted some tragic romance drama like those shown on TV.
"Dad, I need to tell you something, I'm playing cards in Xiting Town."
The other end fell silent.
"How about, you come and arrest me?"
Silence continued on the other end.
