When they returned to Riverside Coast, Yaoyao's mood was still downcast, long lashes damp with tears.
"Daddy," Yaoyao greeted the man on the sofa, who radiated an aura of cool nobility, without lifting her little head, then pouted and trotted upstairs—the diminutive figure looking forlorn and pitiable.
Gong Motin set down the contract in his hand and eyed the retreating figure suspiciously, "Nanny Zhang, what's wrong with the child?"
"Miss said she found herself a mother," Nanny Zhang whispered.
Gong Motin's brows knitted together as he strode to Yaoyao's room.
"Yaoyao," he called as he entered. The little one was burrowed face-first into her blanket, crying her heart out.
Gong Motin sat down at the bed's edge, his large hand pulling Gong Yaoyao out of her blanket and onto his lap.
Yaoyao, frustrated, had her chest heaving dramatically, rubbing her swollen red eyes, "I found a girl to be my mom, but I... I forgot to get her phone number. I'm so stupid."