A smile appeared in her eyes, and the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up: "Really? Yueyue, come here and sit next to Mom."
His tone was filled with barely suppressed joy.
Leng Yue lowered her head, too shy to look up, and took small steps to sit down next to Zhang Ruoshui.
She bit her lower lip and timidly called out, "Mom!"
The soft, sweet call made Zhang Ruoshui extremely happy. She grasped Leng Yue's slightly cool hand, the warmth of her palm seemingly conveying all her joy: "Little Leng, I'm sorry you've been wronged. I'll say it again, if this brat makes you suffer, tell me, and I'll definitely stand up for you."
Leng Yue felt the warmth in her palms, her cheeks burning, and her heart pounding like a little rabbit.
From this moment on, my relationship with Lu Qingzhou is considered stable.
She gripped Zhang Ruoshui's hand tightly, her voice sweet enough to drip honey: "Thank you, Mom!"
Zhang Ruoshui gently released Leng Yue's hand with a loving expression.
His gaze fell on Chen Xiaoxi sitting opposite him. She was looking down, her head drooping, her fingers unconsciously clutching the hem of her white coat as if she wanted to crumple the fabric.
After thinking for a moment, she slowly said:
"Xiaoxi,"
Zhang Ruoshui's voice was full of gentleness, "Auntie has heard Old Chen mention you before. So many years have passed in the blink of an eye. You and my Xiao Lu have both grown up."
Oh, by the way, when I was cleaning the house last time, I saw a photo of you and my rascal from when we were in high school. It was taken in Honghua Alley in the old street, and it turned out really well.
She paused, her eyes filled with affection, "Come to our house for meals anytime you have time, Auntie will cook you delicious food!"
Zhang Ruoshui's words made Chen Xiaoxi's nose tingle and her eyes well up with tears again.
She bit her lower lip hard, lowered her head, and dug her nails deep into her palms.
It felt like a piece of burning coal was stuck in her throat. The old street stories that Zhang Ruoshui mentioned were like sharp blades, tearing away her forced composure and leaving it riddled with holes.
In my memory, there were sycamore leaves on the old street and sugar painting stalls in Honghua Lane.
The boy who always secretly followed her on her way home from school, Lu Qingzhou who stuffed warm milk into her schoolbag and ran away with a flushed face, was now surrounded by three women, keeping her two meters away.
Those images suddenly flooded my eyes.
Hot tears welled up in her eyes, and she abruptly turned her head away, not wanting anyone to see her reddened eyes.
The sunlight outside the window was so bright it was almost blinding, but it couldn't warm the crowded room. Instead, it made the oppressive atmosphere even thicker.
The purple clay teapot was still emitting wisps of steam. In the misty air, some people were happy, while others were saddened.
......
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