The little one's backpack was with the bodyguard. The bodyguard opened the small backpack and pulled out a sketch, handing it to Ye Qingci with both hands.
Jian Shichu also leaned over to take a look.
Ye Qingci was very surprised.
On the A4 white paper was a sketch that was remarkably similar to her, and it was beautifully drawn.
"Oh my God!" Ye Qingci was amazed, "Ah Ling, you're amazing! How can you draw so well?"
"My teacher taught me," the little guy blushed from the praise, burying his face into Ye Qingci's embrace, "Ah Ling likes drawing, drawing is fun."
Jian Shichu looked at the lively portrait of his wife on paper and asked his darling son, "Son, why is there only a drawing of Mom? Why not of Dad?"
Seventh Master Jian would never admit it, but he felt a bit jealous.
It wasn't that he was jealous of his wife, he was just saddened by the lack of attention and longing from his son.
Clearly, he loved his son dearly too, didn't he?
Very, very much!
