Translated by XephiZ
Edited by Aelryinth
The thief was still crying in pain, struggling to open his eyes. He could not see a thing. He was charging aimlessly and knocking things over like a headless fly.
He had knocked most of the tables and chairs to the ground. The chili, vinegar, and salt were scattered all over the place.
Han Weilan stared at Mo Yangyang blankly, "Mom..."
Mo Yangyang hugged Latiao and hid in a corner. She began to panic when she saw the blank expression on his face.
"Latiao, what's wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable? Are you in pain?"
Han Weilan's lips shuddered. It had been so long since he last heard his nickname, "Latiao". It felt like ages since he was last called that!
He was not a fan of his nickname "Latiao" in the past, but he finally realized how pleasant it sounded when it came out of her mouth.
