"Hahaha—" Yao Ye burst into laughter upon seeing his action, grabbed him with one hand, and lifted his small chin with the other, asking with a smile, "Do you still remember us?"
The shiny black beads of his eyes blinked warily, "Remember, remember."
Even his speaking voice was very proper, timid, like a rabbit.
Wensheng, holding his teacup, spoke up, "Look at how scared you've made the child, others might think you've used some severe torture on him."
"He would be scared of us?" Yao Ye wouldn't admit to that, carefully turning the child's small face, "You don't know, he used to really dislike us, afraid we would steal his aunt away from him."
The little face turned red upon hearing this, cheeks puffed out in annoyance: This scoundrel, he had it figured out all along.
"Steal his aunt? What's his relationship with his aunt, what's our relationship with his aunt?" A cold snort of laughter that would spare no child, icy and cutting, came from Jun Ye's nose.
