“The imitation was quite good, but let’s not do it again next time,” Xia Zhihuai said with a smile as he gently tousled her soft hair.
“That person’s name is Song Yuanxin, and she has a bad temper, so you shouldn’t provoke her.”
Wanwan nodded obediently, having already noticed it herself. Children are like a radar for avoiding danger, knowing who they can be playful with and who is difficult to get along with. It’s all clear in their minds.
“We won’t intervene with the ghost on Song Yuanxin’s body, but if you feel uneasy about it, we can subtly remind her,” Xia Zhihuai suggested.
Wanwan nodded and took a sip of milk before lazily saying, “I don’t feel uneasy about it, though.”
She wasn’t a saint painted on the walls of a church; she was just a little baby who needed her brother to love her a little more every day. Hmph~
Xia Zhihuai wasn’t surprised by Wanwan’s response.
She had her own thoughts on certain matters, and that was good.