Jing Mo Is Injured Again

Zhang Li seemed to be possessed. She stared fixedly at the cold lake. In the ethereal coldness, she seemed to see a small figure.

A thin little girl in an ill-fitting cotton-padded jacket stretched out a pair of small hands that were red and purple from the cold. Her moist eyes looked at her timidly, and there was a humble desire in them—Hug me.

Zhang Li's entire body trembled, and tears flowed out like a broken dam, covering her vision.

When the little Jing Yao was first brought home, she would look at her like this every time, but she couldn't tell what she meant. Perhaps she could, but she automatically ignored it.

When she met Jing Yao's gaze at that time, she only felt that she was timid and inferior. Such a daughter would only add to her humiliation.