Jian Chen stood at the kitchen entrance while looking at his sobbing sister. There was not a hint of regret on his features that greatly resembled Fu Hanyu, only expressions of heartache were seen towards his younger sister.
“It's ok, Lan. Your brother didn't do it on purpose. I'll save his number for you later on.” The woman carried her daughter and laid the little girl's head on her shoulder. The poor girl was still sobbing uncontrollably. Her tears and snots were all smeared on her mother's shirt.
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