Little Yan Yan sweetly smiled, her pair of expressive eyes like two crescent moons, bright and clear.
Seeing this, Jun Ruochen's gaze, filled with understanding, hardly dared to blink.
Through that face, which resembled that of the little girl's as if they were cast from the same mold, big and small, he seemed to see once again the lively eyes of that mischievous little woman.
A dull knife seemed to carve incessantly at his heart, a pain so deep it cleaved through to his core, making him wish for death, subconsciously clenching his fists, unable to regain his senses from her face for a long time.
Suddenly, a small face appeared enlarged before him, as Little Yan Yan leaned close to Jun Ruochen, waving her little hand with a curious look at him.
"Uncle Jun, what's wrong with you?"
Jun Ruochen's wandering thoughts finally returned, and he personally picked up the teapot in front of him, refilling Little Yan Yan's cup.