Yan Xinxin had thought there was no escaping Ning Zitong's slap. Thinking about how she had caused little Chenxi to lose so much blood and remain unconscious, Yan Xinxin had already prepared herself to endure the blow.
But instead, she saw Ning Zitong's hand freeze mid-air, never landing the slap.
She raised her eyes and looked at Ning Zitong, noticing the indignation in her expression. Ning Zitong's right hand was suspended in mid-air, but she still hesitated to strike.
After a long moment, Ning Zitong finally clenched her fist suppressively and lowered her hand.
Even she wasn't sure why—at the very instant she wanted to slap Yan Xinxin, she suddenly found herself unable to do it.
It was as though an invisible, peculiar thought had flashed through her mind.
Looking at Yan Xinxin's face, a strange resemblance emerged in her mind: the pure, adorable image of her precious Yuan when he was a child.
"Yan Xinxin, get out! I don't want to see you!"
