Zhao Youlin's jolly mood in the early morning had been ruined by the unexpected guests. She immediately brought Joy home.
"Mommy…" The moment they reached home and placed down the things, Joy tugged on Zhao Youlin's sleeves.
Just then, Zhao Youlin was packing things. When Joy called out, she thought something had happened, so she turned her head and asked, "Joy, what's the matter?"
Joy did not say anything. He cried, pointing at Zhao Youlin's arm.
Zhao Youlin followed the direction he pointed, only to realize the red marks as a result of the scratches from the bodyguards had turned into bruises by the time they arrived home.
"Mommy, are they painful?" Joy stared at Zhao Youlin's arms. His eyes teared up as if Zhao Youlin's bruises were his instead.
