Fu Qingji must have written this when she was very young. The handwriting was crooked and had a childish comical feeling.
Fu Ting was not from this world. Her only connection with this world was Fu Pei.
Every child in this world was born with their family's expectations. Therefore, Fu Ting was often a little nervous, thinking that she was an anomaly that was not accepted by this era.
However, her relatives, one after another, had been waiting for her arrival without knowing her existence.
Her heart wasn't made of steel, so how could she not be touched?
"I'm very sorry." Fu Qingji spoke with difficulty." I didn't do it well and made you sad."
He blinked, seemingly embarrassed, and wanted to take the notebook back.
Fu Ting shrank back and said softly," Since this is written for me, can I take it with me?"
Fu Qingji thought that she was hallucinating. Staring at the young lady with fair cheeks and bright eyes, she stuttered," You, you don't hate her?"
