Dan Hanjie reached out and took down his little fist, and he would let out an unhappy grunt.
He clenched his fist and brought it back to his little mouth.
Father and son repeated the same action, simple, yet with an inexplicable sense of humor.
Qin Youxuan walked forward, said nothing, just reached out, and wrapped her arms around his robust waist from behind.
Dan Hanjie's body stiffened, he didn't turn around.
He would recognize her scent without looking back, he knew who was behind him.
"Dan Hanjie, I'm sorry."
Qin Youxuan's arms tightened slightly as she pressed her cheek against his back.
"I didn't mean to blame you, I know it's not your fault, I just hate Dan Rong, I really do..." Qin Youxuan's voice choked up, tears cascading down and splashing onto his back.
They dampened his shirt.
"..."
Dan Hanjie's gaze faltered, he squinted his eyes.
After he clearly heard what she said, he suddenly turned around, incredulously looking at her.
"I'm his son, I carry his blood."
