Meng Shujing anxiously returned to her room, just about to step in, when she saw a slender figure sitting with its back to her direction, appearing so thin and forlorn in the night.
Meng Shujing frowned: "Huahua?"
The figure suddenly stiffened, and slowly turned around, the delicate and petite face looking very pale. Who else could it be but Yan Hua, with red eyes as if she had just been crying.
Meng Shujing walked over quickly, her heart was already troubled beyond belief, and her tone naturally wasn't pleasant: "Why aren't you sleeping in the middle of the night, sitting here all alone? Isn't your health bad enough? Do you want to worry Mom to death?"
She had always been exceptionally lenient and loving towards this daughter, and this was the first time she spoke to her so sternly.
"What happened to your eyes? Who bullied you?" Meng Shujing stepped closer, asking in a low, firm voice.
