The next second, she thumped onto Gong Motin's legs, scampered past the coffee table, and threw herself into Lin Miao'er's arms, her little head bobbing excitedly, "Miao'er is so nice, she actually came to see Yaoyao."
Lin Miao'er wrapped her arms around Yaoyao, truly fond of the well-behaved child—even if she was the son of Gong Motin.
But the next second, Lin Miao'er realized that her behavior might have been too enthusiastic, perhaps a bit too much.
Yet Yaoyao was snuggling against her like a little kitten, burying her face in her chestnut curls, nuzzling her neck.
Gong Motin watched the affectionate pair, a leisurely ease crossing between his eyebrows.
The scene before him lifted his originally somber mood considerably.
Before this, he had felt it wasn't right for Yaoyao to meet Miao'er too soon, worried that Lin Miao'er might disappear from his world once again.