Xing Jiaqing pulled her brother over to the bedside and reached out to wipe the tears of the little sister in bed. Xing Jialang then took off his backpack, unzipped it, and took out the toys he brought with him, handing them to the little girl, saying, "This toy pistol is my favorite. I'll lend it to you to play with. Do you like it? Oh, I also have a model airplane! It even has a remote control. When I press the button, the airplane can fly over a meter above the ground!"
Xing Jialang's words made Ding Jinshi's daughter stop crying momentarily. The little girl looked at the black toy pistol in front of her without much interest in playing with it, but her tearful eyes were fixed on Xing Jialang's bag, as if waiting for him to take out the flying model airplane for her to see.
