Lin Qingge did not answer why but stubbornly asked another question, "Chengcheng, in your heart, can't Auntie compare with your mom?"
"..."
"She abandoned you for so many years without a word, without taking any responsibility. Don't you blame her?"
A five-year-old child does not understand love and hate, but Chengcheng, seeing Lin Qingge angry, could only agree with her, "Auntie, Chengcheng likes you, please don't be angry."
Lin Qingge still refused to let it go, staring into his eyes, she pressed further, "What about your mom? Do you like her or not?"
Chengcheng did not know how to answer.
"You don't like her, right?" Lin Qingge became somewhat anxious, her palm involuntarily pressing down on his little shoulder, overwrought with emotion, "Speak up, don't you like her?"
Chengcheng lifted his head, looking somewhat aggrieved.
Seeing her lose control of her emotions, he felt scared, and finally could not help but burst into tears.
