Seeing his little shoulders shudder, An Ruo felt even worse.
She held back the tears in her eyes, stepped forward, and only then saw that An Ji was holding a family portrait.
In the photo were their parents, An Ji who was not yet a year old, and herself with two pigtails, smiling foolishly.
It was the only photo of their family that had been preserved.
When An Ji heard footsteps, he turned and saw it was his sister; he immediately panicked and wiped the tears off his face.
"Sister, why are you here?"
An Ruo sat down beside him, grabbed his arm, and looked him over anxiously, "I heard Uncle hit you. Where did he hit you? Where are you hurt?"
"Sis, I'm fine..." An Ji hastily denied, but when An Ruo's hand touched his back, he couldn't help but gasp in pain.
An Ruo quickly pulled back his clothes and saw several bright red welts on his pale, thin back.
The person who had hit him had used a lot of force, An Ji's skin was torn, and traces of fresh blood seeped out.
