Little Milk Baby covered his face, deceiving himself, just a soft little pink bun.
And the old man held Fuguier with a red pendant and his face was beaming with joy.
The guests were still gathered around watching.
At this point, when the host was satisfied, the guests should also offer compliments, but everyone found it hard to utter compliments while looking at Rong Qing.
The refined youth rarely felt helpless, "It seems I've dug a hole for myself to jump into."
And the next second, the young boy raised his hand, his pale fingertips pinching the black pendant, and he wore it around his neck.
Compared to his previous behavior, his temper seemed too good.
And Little Milk Jin's little fingers that covered his face spread apart, peeking through the gaps at Rong Qing's expression.
"Thank you, Jinjin, brother really likes it."
The banquet hall was brightly lit.
