Duan Xi shook his head and stopped her from continuing.
From six to twelve years old, Jiaojiao experienced two brushes with death, living so arduously. Now that she's finally made it through, how could he bear to let her face it all over again.
"????" Jiaojiao blinked in confusion.
"Nonsense." Duan Xi lightly chided, then glanced at the gift box in his hand: "You can't have this."
"Okay, I won't take it." She nodded repeatedly, whispering, "Then let's throw it away later when there's no one around."
Duan Xi's expression eased a little, pulling her into his arms: "You're mine."
"Yes, yes, yes, I'm yours." Jiaojiao agreed with a blush, finding it nostalgic yet refreshing to see Duan Xi's awkward and childlike demeanor after so many years.
Just as the two hugged, a little tugging at her pant leg made Jiaojiao look down in confusion, finding Little Potato with a flushed face and large, pitiful eyes: "Big sister is bad, leaving the baby."
