Lu Youheng stood with his little mouth agape, stunned in the living room.
Ye Xi slowly got up from the sofa, a wave of sourness surged into her nostrils, and her eyes reddened in an instant.
As their gazes met, Ye Xi could no longer hold back. She rushed over to Youyou, squatted down, and hugged him tightly.
Early in the morning, like magic, Teacher Ye suddenly appeared at home, it was like a dream.
It wasn't until Youyou felt the tickling around his neck that he realized Teacher Ye was crying.
Lu Youheng straightened up from Ye Xi's embrace and asked, "What's wrong? Why are you crying? Did my dad bully you?"
As he spoke, the little guy used his chubby little hands to wipe away the tears on Ye Xi's face.
All of Ye Xi's words were choked in her throat; facing her own child, she couldn't utter a word.
She hadn't lost her reason; Youyou was still so young. She couldn't just blurt out that she was his mother.
A child's capacity to understand is, after all, limited.
