The sketchbook lay open on the ground, the simple crayon drawings reflecting the child's innocent thoughts and wishes. The boy drew many things related to his family, such as mom and dad cooking together, shopping together, organizing housework, and planting flowers.
The lines were simple, and the drawings not well done, but one could still sense a faint warmth from them.
At least, that was the first impression.
"Is your name Laisheng?" Han Fei picked up the sketchbook from the ground, trying to stay calm and not mind the gaze behind him.
The little boy's parents had been watching him from behind for who knows how long, and now he was glad he hadn't spoken out of turn or done anything to harm the boy.
"My nickname is that, but after Dad left, Mom rarely calls me by it." The little boy, wearing wet pants, looked up as if he had already grown up, looking quite adorable.