He took a quiet breath. Imagine his surprise, a trinket to ward off his bad luck, a token given by an old man, turned out to suit his taste.
"No more crying, uncle's really okay. When you cry, uncle's head aches."
Hearing him say that, Su Ningyan wiped her tears, "Then I won't cry anymore uncle, let me help you inside to wash up."
Su Ningyan was prepared to help him, but as soon as she got up, her legs gave way and she once again fell onto his chest.
"What's wrong little one?"
How embarrassing, Ningyan mumbled for a while before finally saying, "Uncle, my...my legs are a bit weak."
Zhuo Junyue curved his lips into a smile, wrapping his arm around her waist and swiftly stood up from the ground.
"Little devil, you need to train better in the future. Your physical strength is not up to par, immediately complaining about your legs being weak."
Su Ningyan disagreed, his intensity, was that considered as just one round?
