"What keepsake of your daddy's?"
Lu Fengxuan glanced at the item in Jiujiu's hands, unconcerned, and continued to comfort her, "Alright, don't cry anymore. Your daddy loves you so much; he wouldn't punish your good friend..."
Her voice came to an abrupt halt at that point.
Her apricot eyes fixed on the circle of red thread in Jiujiu's hands, her pupils dilating bit by bit, even her breathing stopped for a moment.
This, this is...
She snatched the red thread from Jiujiu's hand—a bit old, the braided pattern was rough, with a small red bean bead strung on it.
The red bean bead looked as though it was often handled and rubbed, its surface becoming incredibly smooth and shiny.
She had made the red string herself, and was more familiar with its pattern than anyone else.
And the red bean bead had also been polished by her own hand.
She wore it when she was 16, but it mysteriously disappeared after the car accident.
