Last night, she lay there like fish meat on the cutting board, at the mercy of the butcher's fierce handling, tossing and turning until her body felt as if it had come apart. She hardly had the energy to wake up early.
Alas!
After a gentle cough, she adjusted her nightgown and asked with furrowed brows, "Where's your dad?"
Sanqi pouted her lips and, imitating her dad, pinched her mom's face with her little hand, "Mr. Xing Liehuo is downstairs getting ready to leave. Quick, mom, quick, quick, quick!"
The three urgent 'quick's vividly conveyed little beauty Sanqi's anxious state of mind.
Under the devilish torment of her daughter, Lian Qiao rapidly got up, washed, and went downstairs.
Breakfast was ready, though somewhat odd.
There was a plain bowl of noodles for each of the three family members, with just a few greens floating in the noodles. Even Sanqi couldn't escape this pitiable fate.
