Cough, cough, cough―――!
The snowstorm hadn't stopped yet. The air was blended with snowflakes and the dust from the burning fire, leading to a smoky atmosphere around the ruined firewood shed. The ashy mist made it impossible to keep one's eyes open without incessant coughing.
"Whimper..."
The cries of the children hadn't ceased since the start. What began as loud wails had slowly turned into soft, choked sobs.
Perhaps they were too tired to cry any longer, so they had buried their sorrow deep within them.
Lin Zhengyang was comforting the two little girls, holding the sobbing Lin Qingxue in his arms, while also trying to console Lin Qingyue, who was crying beside him.
For the children, it was the first time in a long while that they had felt the love of a father. A father who would comfort them, who would worry about their concubine mothers.
They just didn't realize it at the moment.
