The slender man was elongated by the soft light and shadow, making the silhouette even more emaciated, a kind of abnormal thinness.
The long hand, almost showing bones, was placed on the armrest, while the other hand pressed gently at his lip, suppressing a light cough.
Perhaps hearing Tuanzi's call, the man turned his head and looked over, a hint of surprise appearing in his eyes: "Why are you back?"
Tuanzi moved over with his two little short legs, grasping his hand, anxiously gauging him up and down, "Is Uncle King sick again? He seems to be unwell again."
King sat down on the lounge chair beside him, reached out and patted Tuanzi's head, ignoring his concerned questions, stared at him and asked back: "Why are you back? Isn't it still early?"
The man's voice was very subtle.
