Travelling Back to 20 Years Ago and Adopt Myself

Chapter 2

     Jiang Wang suddenly found that it was difficult to reason with his seven-year-old self.

　"I won't sell you." He said slowly: "Actually... I am a relative who was asked by your mother to take care of you. According to seniority, I am your cousin." "You are safe now." Peng Xingwang has been there for several years.

　I hadn’t seen my mother in years, and now my eyes were filled with tears because of the pain, and I raised my head to look at him.

　"Really?"

　Jiang Wang was relieved in his heart, thinking that he finally found a decent explanation, and his tone finally became gentler.

　"Well, actually I look a lot like her. Take a closer look."

　Peng Xingwang thought for a few seconds.

　"Can you call her?"

　Jiang Wang said expressionlessly, "I don't have a mobile phone."

　"There is a landline phone at the front desk of the guest house."

　"Go to bed."

　Peng Xingwang looked disappointed and almost said, "You are really lying to me." Written on his face, he sniffed and crawled back onto the bed to wrap himself up in a ball, and soon fell asleep with even breathing.

　Jiang Wang was left sitting alone on the edge of the bed, holding half a roll of gauze and lost in thought.

　He never thought things would develop to this point.

　The infant version of myself was pulled out for no apparent reason, and it was absolutely impossible to give the child back, so I could only continue to raise it.

　A certain person had zero experience in love and was annoyed when hearing children cry. He had originally given up on himself and planned to stay single until he was old. Before he left, he found a place to dig a hole and lay down in order to save some money on the coffin.

　He looked at Peng Xingwang a little annoyed.

　It was just dawn the next morning, and Peng Xingwang carefully slipped out of bed with his bare feet, glanced at the bulging quilt on the next bed, and then ran out quickly.

　In three steps, he hit the iron-like eight-pack abs.

　"Hiss—"

　Jiang Wang looked down at him while carrying a bag of soy milk and fried dough sticks, and the old man's shadow fell on him.

　Peng Xingwang turned around and ran away, jumped back into the quilt and forced himself to sleep again, pretending that nothing happened.

　"Get up." The man said coldly: "After eating, take a shower and go to school."

　The child thought he heard wrongly: "... go to school?"

　Jiang Wang had already bought a cheap T-shirt and put it on, turned his back to him and went to the balcony shirt and jacket: "When does school usually end? I'll pick you up later."

　The child was quiet for a while, and his voice became much softer.

　"No one has ever picked me up from school."

　Peng Xingwang is seven years old this year. According to the custom of entering school early in City A, he should be in the second grade.

　But he has never been to kindergarten. His biological father has been soaked in alcohol and vomit all day long since he was born. His mother fled the country in a hurry within two years after giving birth. She can survive today only because of the food from the neighbors.