Jiayi looked toward the big bed, where the pristine white bedsheets were filled with large and small, overlapping turtles…
Turtles!
That style of drawing, even if she didn't admit it was Zaizai's doing, there was no denying it!
Her anger vanished in an instant, replaced by guilt, and she quickly hugged her son tight, afraid he would continue to scold her: "Zaizai doesn't know any better, he's just over three years old, maybe…"
"Maybe he's a dimwit who accidentally wandered into my room and then mistook my bedsheets for a canvas, is that it? If that's the case, I could forgive the little guy." Huo Zhenyang's voice was frosty with sarcasm.
A three-year-old child? He hadn't seen anything about this kid that seemed like he was three, from start to finish!
"Zaizai is not a dimwit!" Jiayi bit her lip, her face stiffening: "Anyway, I'll wash the bedsheets clean. At most, I'll compensate you with a new set of sheets, how much could it cost."
