There are now more than twenty children in the orphanage.
The youngest is five, and the oldest is ten; as for the older kids, perhaps they don't qualify to be sent to Qiming Orphanage.
Xu Shuo put the cooled tea on the table and was flipping through the files of the children on the bookshelf when suddenly, there was a gentle knock on the door from outside.
It was rhythmic and soft, from which one could tell that the knocker must be a well-mannered and polite child.
Xu Shuo turned his head to glance at the office door, his eyes as dark as if spreading black mist, with vortices swirling in their depths.
"Come in."
He withdrew his gaze and spoke indifferently.
As his voice faded, the door, which wasn't locked, was gently pushed open with a "click."
Standing at the door was a ten-year-old boy with hazel eyes and dark chestnut-colored hair.
