Chi Huan wasn't planning to pay them any mind, and said dispassionately, "I've got other things to attend to, so I'll be leaving now. Mr. Lawrence, would you please relay a message to your wife—since she's certain that she isn't hurt, then please take responsibility yourselves for any complications that may arise later."
After she said that, she turned to leave, lifting her foot to step away.
Before she could take a step, her skirt was tugged.
Chi Huan looked down.
A little girl was looking up at her, the tender skin of a three- or four-year-old unquestionable, a round soft bun face that made one itch to give it a pinch.
The little voice was immature and squishy, "Sister... you promised... you can't leave until my mommy..."
Sister... Sister?
The corners of Mo Shiqian's eyebrows twitched.