He lifted his gaze to look at Mu Yazhe coldly. Expressionlessly tossing his blanket aside, he calmly got down from bed and trudged toward the window, then leaning his weight on the wall while hugging his arms.
"Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be with your fiancée at this time? Why do you keep clinging on to my mommy? It's really annoying."
Once the little boy opened his mouth, every word from him woundingly penetrated him; it was really painful.
He did not find this little boy's indifferent and somber way of speech surprising.
This child was too sensitive – he had carefully concealed his weakest side.
He noticed how the boy was leaning against the wall. It appeared as if he were looking for support from the hard surface of it.
"Are you very satisfied?"
One of his eyebrows was raised at the boy's question.
