Meng Heming listened to the little girl's words, his expression somewhat stiff, then he spoke faintly, "This shop is mine."
"This shop is yours?" An Yin's eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at the man, as if it was an incredible thing.
Meng Heming saw the girl's strong reaction, the gloomy look in his eyes gradually faded, and he pretended to be puzzled, "Why, don't I look like the owner of this shop?"
"No, of course not." An Yin smiled awkwardly, muttering.
"Do you like the food here?"
Seeing the two were about to reach the front desk, Meng Heming felt a sense of melancholy; their time together was always so short.
"I like it." An Yin's eyes sparkled, her face full of joy, "I also really like the environment here." An Yin added.
Seeing her enjoyment, Meng Heming seemed encouraged, "Next time you come, I'll treat you to a meal." Meng Heming's tall figure stood beside the girl, giving an invisible sense of pressure.
