Zhuo Zhengxiu was somewhat uneasy, "This time you go, you must pay attention to safety and must not be careless."
"Dad, I know."
He didn't want to die either, for if he died, how heartbroken would the people who truly care about him be?
That night, Ningyan, observing his secretive behavior over the past few days, couldn't help but ask, "Honey, is there something going on these past few days? I see you and Dad always on the fourth floor."
Moreover, their time on the fourth floor was quite long, which made her worry that something might have happened in the secret chamber that day.
Zhuo Junyue pulled her into his arms and casually pulled up the blanket.
Though the house was warm, in winter the little one's hands and feet were still icy cold.
As soon as winter arrived, the little one became even more like a cat, curling up beside him.
"It's nothing, just some matters regarding the ancestral tomb, don't worry."
