The Foot-Scratching Man

Ever since Zhouzhou learned how to paint from Grandpa Wen that afternoon, she became addicted to it and would draw whenever she had free time.

Her family doted on her. Although they knew her paintings weren't good, they never criticized her and instead praised her endlessly.

On the other hand, Qin Er, looking at the papers scattered on the ground due to the wind, bent down to pick them up and stacked them together. He frowned and said, "Don't waste paper."

Zhouzhou looked up, blinked her eyes, and said seriously, "Second Elder brother, I didn't waste it."

What else could it be if not a waste?

Qin Er was about to say something when the doorbell suddenly rang. He swallowed his words, walked over to open the door, and was surprised to see the person outside. "Grandpa?"

Of course, it wasn't his grandfather but Little Seven's grandfather, Grandpa Wen.

"Why are you here?" Qin Er invited him in and noticed there was a young man following behind him, so he took a quick glance at him.