She let out a faint sigh and took out a clean handkerchief from her bosom, handing it to the boy.
A subtle fragrance wafted from the handkerchief to the tip of his nose, carrying the unique sweetness of a little girl, refreshing his heart and spleen.
The boy looked at the clean handkerchief, hesitating for a moment as if afraid of dirtying it and dared not to take it.
"Little brother, don't cry, wipe your tears with the handkerchief, and I'll ask my dad to take you home," said Su Qingluo with a gentle and soft tone as if coaxing a child.
"I don't have a home anymore."
The word 'home' made the boy cry like a flood, as he took the handkerchief and covered his face, sobbing in pain.
"Sigh!"
With a sigh like a little adult, Su Qingluo propped her cheek on her hand and waited quietly. She let him release his inner pain in one outburst.
"Ooh ooh."
