Shi Yan smelled the sweet scent emanating from Ning Qiao and his excited emotions gradually calmed down.
Two little chubby hands clung tightly to Ning Qiao's neck, and while she wasn't paying attention, he stealthily rolled his eyes at his own father before provocatively and triumphantly burying his face in Ning Qiao's chest, rubbing gently back and forth.
"He is my son, and I know whether or not he will be scared," said Shi Jue, his gaze growing heavy.
Ning Qiao hadn't found Shi Yan's act of rubbing against her inappropriate, but upon noticing Shi Jue's stare, filled with dissatisfaction and a barely noticeable hint of envy, she became aware.
Ning Qiao: "......"
"I'll take Xiaoyan upstairs, and you can bring up the luggage," Ning Qiao said, and then hurriedly carried Shi Yan upstairs.
Resigned, Shi Jue walked back to the living room, picked up two small suitcases with one hand, and just then his sleeve was lightly tugged by a plump little hand.
