Tang Chuang scoffed.
What a case of preaching by example.
In the end, unable to face the elders of Jiangdong.
The young man holding the little milk baby had a hint of embarrassment on his face.
The sunlight fell.
Tang Wenhuo was tall, perfectly blocking the light that fell on Tang Yan.
Tang Yan looked up along the shadow.
Little Milk Jin's chubby little hands were patting on his face, her little face puffed up with anger.
This elicited a gentle chuckle from the young man.
Their eyes and brows bore a note of resemblance, large and small.
They got along harmoniously.
Tang Yan watched, slightly shrinking his body, then looked again at the little cutie who could be picked up with just one hand by the young man.
His fingertips twitched.
He spoke quietly.
It sounded very aggrieved.
"Jinjin."
His voice was too low.